Cupid
by flashpenguin
Summary: Torn apart by pride, Carter and Reese are lost and lonely souls searching and wandering. But not if Lionel Fusco has anything to say about it! With the help of Finch, the detective has a plan to bring his mutual friends together in time for Valentine's Day. But will it work? *COMPLETED!*
1. Chapter 1

_Valentine's Day is right around the corner and a cupid named Fusco definitely has the gift of gab! No matter how much I tried to ignore him, he kept insisting that I listen to what he wanted to say in regard to Reese and Joss and their unspoken love for one another and the way he wants to bring them together. If I decide to go with this Valentine's Day story, I will have to put all my other stories on hold. Let me know what you think!_

_I don't own Person of Interest!_

**_Song prompt: "Cupid" by The Spinners and by Sam Cooke – both are so incredible in their own way that I couldn't choose one over the other._**

* * *

**Cupid**

_It could work, _Lionel Fusco reasoned to himself.

_Yeah, and you could end up getting shot,_ the little voice inside his head returned.

Lionel shrugged. True, he conceded, but until he tried, there was no way of knowing. Now that he had the plan, he just needed a way to implement it. That's why he had requested a meeting with Harold Finch.

"You wanted to see me, Detective?" the bespectacled man asked as he slid on to the seat in the booth located in the far corner of the cafe.

Fusco leaned forward and lowered his voice. "I need your help." There was just a tiny hint of desperation in his voice.

"I should warn you that I'm not versed in legal matters."

"Not this time. Besides, it's not for me." Finch raised his eyebrows. "It's for our mutual friends."

"I don't understand."

"Okay. See if this makes sense: Carter is lonely."

"She is," Finch nodded, but he wasn't going to reveal how he knew.

"So is Wonderboy."

"Yes, I believe he is, too."

"I've talked to both of them and they seem upset."

"I hadn't noticed. Did they say why they were upset?" Finch questioned in hedging tone.

"Not in so many words, but I'm figuring it's because they've been dumped by their better halves."

"I see." Finch kept his expression stoic.

"And I'm thinking: John is alone, and Carter is alone..." Fusco trailed off before finishing his thought.

"And you want to help them find a partner?" Finch prompted.

"One better," Fusco enthused happily. "I want them to find each other."

To say Finch was shocked would have been an understatement. "Detective..." he began carefully.

"It's a great idea, Finch," Fusco continued in a rush. "John got dumped by some woman who thought he wasn't good enough for her."

"That's not the full-"

"And Carter just kicked some brain-dead schmuck to the curb because he betrayed her-"

"Schmuck?"

"I'd call him an asshole, but I'm in polite company."

"Thank you, Detective," Finch murmured.

"You're welcome. But this jerk let Carter go. He should know that she has high standards and strict rules, and breaking them is not allowed."

"I'll try to remember that."

"As for Wonderboy...yeah, he screwed up, but that broad had no right dismissing him without hearing his side of the story," Fusco defended his friend.

"I see."

"Lately he's been a little up tight. I don't know if they are having a shortage on bullets or the bad guys are learning to protect their knees, but, he's wound tighter than a top."

"Uh..." Finch tried to find the right words to respond, but his mind was blank. How could he respond without giving it away?

"Personally, I think he needs to get laid."

Finch blinked. "I'm not sure how I can help, Detective." Did Fusco want him to get a woman for John for sexual release? Finch swallowed hard and waited for the punch line of the joke he knew was coming.

"We need to get him hooked up with a great lady."

Slowly the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. "And you chose Detective Carter." It was more of a statement than a question.

"It's a logical choice," Fusco reasoned.

"One that will guarantee you getting shot," Finch added for good measure.

"Perhaps," Fusco said and cocked his head. The possibility of worst case scenario hadn't crossed his mind. But his mind was set and he wasn't going to back down.

"What makes you think they would agree to your plan?"

"Because it's a _great_ plan."

"That only partially answers the question."

"They're perfect for one another," Fusco stated emphatically.

"Explain."

Fusco held out his hand and started to count off on his fingers. "First, they are both prior military. Second, they're both bad asses with guns. Third, they have trust issues. And last but not least, they're both single." The detective grinned broadly.

"It's getting clearer." Not by much, but he could see an outline of the plan. "I think I see what you are saying."

"John needs a good woman, and Carter needs...well, most of all the great guys are taken, but John's a good guy," Fusco complimented in his back hand kind of way.

"Thanks. I'm sure Mr. Reese would appreciate hearing that description."

"Hey, nothing against the caped crusader," Fusco apologized, "I think he's great guy. He's just...you know."

"You do realize that Detective Carter spent six months trying to arrest him?" Finch threw out the reminder.

Fusco shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "True."

"And you want to put them together."

"Yeah. When you put it that way." Fusco felt his cheeks burn hot with embarrassment.

"But this doesn't explain why you think they would be good together."

"They're perfect."

"It could backfire," Finch pointed out.

"It could. That is why I need you."

"Need me for what, exactly."

"To bring them together."

"I understand your passion. What I don't understand is why you require my services."

"You have the computer skills needed to make this work."

"How exactly do you want to implement my 'computer skills'?" Finch held his breath.

"I don't know. Maybe an online match site. Or maybe a fancy dinner at an expensive restaurant," Fusco rattled of the list of possibilities.

"How romantic," Finch deadpanned.

"Hey! I'm not pretending to be the brains of this plan; that's why I'm bringing you in to it."

"Thank you, again, Detective. So, you want them to meet or have dinner to create a spark?"

"I suppose. But whatever we do, we need to do it fast."

_Now_ Finch was intrigued. "Why would we need to rush, Detective?"

"Because Valentine's Day is right around the corner! By my estimation, we have two weeks to get those two together so they don't have a chance to go back to the knuckleheads who hurt them."

"Detective, there is something you should know..." Finch protested weakly.

"What I need to know is: Are you going to help me?"

There was no talking logic to the determined man with the one-track mind Finch realized. He sighed and gave up. "What do you need me to do?"

Fusco reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a notepad. "I narrowed it down to dating sites and secret cupid gifts. I'm not sure about the reliability of the latter, but I know for a fact that Carter is registered with 'Two Hearts For A Dream'. I caught it on her phone the other day," he admitted sheepishly.

"And you want me to hack in and set Mr. Reese up with an account?" Finch hinted.

Fusco looked offended. "Hack is such a bad word. But I'm sure you can maneuver something within legal limits...that won't get us arrested or shot," he added as an afterthought.

"I appreciate that, Detective," Finch said tonelessly.

"So, it's a deal?" Fusco extended his hand. Finch looked at it with reserve.

"You're determined to get them together, I'm assuming. With or without my help?"

"I would like your help, yes."

"No matter the outcome? Do I need to remind you that both of our mutual friends are sharpshooters and they have been to war?"

Fusco nodded. "I feel it in my gut that they belong together."

Finch nodded. "Okay." He shook his partner in crime's hand to seal the deal.

Fusco grinned happily and clapped his hands together. "So, what is our first move?"

Finch glanced at the name of the dating site on Fusco's notepad. Then he looked up over the rim of his glasses. "The most important, Detective: Don't get caught."


	2. Chapter 2

_This was a totally different chapter from any I have written before. For the first time ever, I had to rely on the dialogue telling what the person is feeling and thinking instead of using descriptions. Joss is about to meet her "match". To help you out, I've italicized Reese's dialogue. Let me know what you think._

_And for the record, Joss and Reese are using their middle names while they chat._

* * *

**Cupid**

Joss Carter set her sandwich plate and cup of coffee on the desk. Sitting down, she reached over and turned on the computer monitor. It had been a long day at the precinct and now she was ready to sit back, relax, and maybe do some catching up on one of her favourite internet sites.

With one hand she clicked on the connection link and with the other she picked up the sandwich and took a bite. Chewing thoughtfully, she couldn't help but compare the dull and boring peanut butter and jelly to her life. If only something more exciting could happen then maybe she would feel better.

_You'd feel better if you took those calls from John,_ the little voice in the back of her mind chastised.

"No, I wouldn't," she replied out loud.

_Liar._

"Shut up."

One click. Nothing really important in her email box. Another click navigated her to her favourite website. Cute kittens, political jokes, and three videos.

Sigh.

Without much enthusiasm she slowly ate her meal and contemplated turning in early. It wasn't as though life was going to get any better than this moment, she groused to herself. Gathering her plate, she started to stand up.

***Ding!***

_Hello._

Joss turned back toward the monitor. Leaning in, she doubled checked to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks. Nope. Someone was on the chat. Setting the china down, she typed quickly.

Hello, back.

_I didn't think you would be on._

I almost clicked off. You got lucky. :)

_I'm glad that something good happened today. So, how are you?_

Fine. You?

_Okay. I'm a little new at these kind of sites._

It takes time, I guess. Are you looking for anyone in particular?

_No. My friend set me up on this site. He thinks that I can find my special someone._

Ha! Yeah, that is why I joined.

_Oh, do tell. Are you a lonely heart?_

I guess you can call it that. Between guys right now.

_So, you're a woman?_

I hope so! Why do you ask?

_Never can be too sure. There is something about the internet that guarantees a form of anonymity so you can be anyone you want without consequence._

I'll second that. What about you? Man or woman?

_Man._

Good.

_Nice to know I passed the test._

You did. :D

_You got a name?_

Joss paused for a moment. She didn't want to lie to a potential love match, but she was also no fool. Years of being a detective had taught her to keep her guard up – even if the moment felt perfect. Besides, what were the odds that they would even connect so she would have to confess the truth? None. Zip. Zilch.

Maggie.

_Nice to meet you, Maggie. I'm Conrad._

Good to meet you, too, Conrad.

_So...where do you live?_

New York. You?

_Well, what do you know? Small world. I live in Manhattan._

Yeah. Small world.

_I read your profile. Interesting._

Which part?

_All of it. You were in the military?_

For a little while.

_Why'd you get out?_

Did my time, served my country, you know.

_Sometimes you have to move on._

Amen to that. You?

_I did some time. Nothing to brag about._

You can't talk about it.

_Hmmm... Sort of._

Are you married?

_No. You?_

HA! I thought you read my profile?

_Just checking. Like I said, you can't be too sure. So, are you looking for love?_

I don't know. I thought I was, but...

_Now you're not sure._

Is anyone really sure about these sites?

_Afraid that I might be a serial killer?_

I'd be more afraid if you weren't.

_Never heard that one before. So, what do you do?_

What do you mean?

_Your job. You sound interesting. Really interesting. ;)_

Flattery will get you nowhere, pal.

_Ah, well, a guy can try. Can't he?_

I work for the public.

_Civil servant?_

You could say that. What do you do?

_Public relations._

Sounds like fun.

_It can be. Sometimes it can be hands on and intense, but overall I go in, do my job, and go home._

Boring.

_Not really. What about you? What is the best part of your job?_

Interaction. And finding solutions when the need arises. But most of all I like the satisfaction of a job well done.

_You sound like a great person._

Joss shrugged as she typed, "I guess so. I have my faults like anyone else."

_You're human. _

Aren't we all?

_I like talking to you, though._

Are you always so strong coming on to women you've just met?

_Not usually. You're...different._

Again, flattery.

_A compliment._

Maybe. I don't know you well enough to know one way or the other.

_Do you?_

Do I what?

_Want to know me well enough so you can take a compliment?_

I don't know. Yet.

_At least you're honest._

Another character flaw.

_Considering the people I've known, that is not a bad flaw to have._

Yeah.

_You sound tired._

Long day.

_Want to talk about it?_

No.

_Well, if you ever want to talk, I'm here._

Thanks. I'm going to turn in.

_Will you be on tomorrow?_

Joss's fingers paused over the keys. She didn't want to lead the stranger on with a false promise, but there was something so comforting about him that she couldn't say no.

_Are you still there?_

I'm here.

_Will you be on?_

I don't know.

_If I see you on, I'll pop in. Deal?_

Deal. Goodnight.

_Goodnight, Maggie._

Joss waited a minute then clicked out of the site. She gave a small chuckle, picking up the plate and mug and carried them into the kitchen. Rinsing them, she debated washing them, then changed her mind. It could wait until morning.

Yawning wide, she turned out the light. Making her way to the front door, she looked out the peephole for the lone figure she knew would be there. Her heart squeezed painfully to see the wall where he usually stood bare.

"Just as well," she whispered to the empty room. After all, she wanted him to go away, wasn't the reason behind ignoring his calls and pretending he didn't exist? But why did her heart hurt?

Shaking her head, she turned out the light. Walking up the stairs to her bedroom, she paused as the earlier conversation flashed in her mind. _It finally happened; I met a great guy,_ she thought with a happiness she hadn't felt in a long time.

"Girl," she reprimanded herself, "what have you got yourself into?"

"I don't know," she answered back. "But I'm willing to find out."


	3. Chapter 3

_I promise to update as quickly as possible to have this finished by Valentine's Day. And as always, thank you so much for your support!_

* * *

**Cupid**

Joss walked into the bullpen of the 8th Precinct. For the first time since she could remember, her mind was on something other than the noise and commotion that usually filled the room. Making her way to her desk, she set her cup of coffee and brown bag down.

"Morning, Carter," Lionel greeted from across the way.

"Good morning, Lionel," Joss returned.

"Anything up?"

Joss looked up from the pile of notes. "No. Why do you ask?"

Fusco removed his reading glasses and peered at his partner. "I don't know," he admitted. "But you look...different."

Joss raised an eyebrow. "Different? How?"

He hadn't given it much thought, only that he knew what he saw. "I don't know. Happy?"

"I'm always happy." She set the notes down and took off her coat. It was going to be a long day, but she didn't care.

"Happier," Fusco corrected. He stood up and walked over to where Joss was. "Something happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is it a guy?"

Joss quickly busied herself with taking the lid off the coffee cup and adding the creamer. "What does a guy have to do with anything?" she deflected with a tone that warned her inquisitive partner to drop the subject.

Fusco sat down on the corner of the desk. "I don't know. When we had that talk in the car during the stakeout last week, I was under the impression that you weren't ready to move on. But you seem happier, and I suspect that maybe things have changed."

Joss stirred the coffee. "Because I have a guy in my life?" Fusco nodded. "Please."

"So, it's _not_ a man?" Now he was curious. He was pretty sure Finch had set up the web chat so his mutual friends would find each other. But what if something fell through and they missed one another?

Joss sipped the scalding hot liquid. "I _may_ have met someone..." she hedged carefully.

"Really?" Fusco pretended to be indifferent but supportive. "Anyone I know?"

"Probably not."

"Is he nice?"

Joss paused. What could she tell Fusco? That she had met some stranger on a dating website and she liked him? That she had gone against every rule she set for herself and violated it by letting her guard down?

No, she told herself, it was best that she kept this kind of information to herself. She didn't want him any more involved thane he already tried to be.

Instead, she shrugged. "I guess."

"What's his name?"

"Why the twenty questions?" Joss shot back.

"I'm curious."

"Is there anyone else you could be curious with?" she wondered.

Fusco thought about it for a second. "No."

"Lucky me," she muttered sarcastically.

"So, what's his name?" Fusco pressed.

"Why? Are you going to look him up?" Joss took her breakfast bagel out of the bag. "Tell him all about me and how I kick schmucks to the curb when they disappoint me?"

Hurt flashed quickly in Fusco's eyes. "That's harsh, Carter. I wasn't going to tell him anything. I was just wondering what the lucky guy's name is. That's all."

Chastised, Joss lowered her eyes. "His name is Conrad," she offered as an apology.

"Conrad?" Fusco was taken aback by the revelation.

"Is that a bad name?"

"It's...different," he admitted. "I haven't heard that name since my great uncle on my mother's side."

"Now who's being harsh?"

"Wait! I think my mom told me he got a computer recently so he could meet women," Fusco said in a gleeful rush.

Joss felt her stomach drop sharply. "I don't want to hear this." She tried to turn her attention to the breakfast although her appetite had disappeared.

"He's a good-looking guy," Fusco said. "And he's been known to cut many a rug on the dance floor," he added for effect.

"How old _is_ this uncle of yours, Lionel?" Joss asked. She was desperate for Fusco to go away, but that seemed improbable now that a whole new can of worms had been opened by her revelation.

"Seventy-two." Fusco reached in his back pocket for his wallet. "Want to see him?"

Joss opened her mouth, but the words wouldn't come. "I..."

"Hey, detectives," the captain popped his head around the corner. "I need you two to put the gossip on hold and get your asses up to Washington Heights. Seems some gang wanted to do an initiation and three civilians got caught in the cross-fire. They say one of them is a kid."

"Shit," Fusco muttered under his breath.

Joss wrapped her bagel and put it back in the bag. "Guess I'll have to take this. You want to drive?"

"Sure."

Fusco walked over to his desk and retrieved his service weapon and badge. He threw his partner a look. There was something different about her, but the rest of his inquiry could wait until later.

"You ready, partner?" he asked.

"Yeah."

And after they got back, Fusco made a mental note to track down Finch and find out what went wrong with his plan.  
*****

"Good morning, Mr. Reese," Finch greeted from his usual place in front of the computer.

"Morning, Finch." Reese carried the tell tale pink box from the local bakery in one hand, while in the other he carried a Styrofoam carrier holding two large cups. Setting the box and carrier on the desk, he handed one cup to Finch. "Your tea."

Finch took the cup. "Thank you, Mr. Reese."

"And I got a few of your...special donuts in there," he nodded toward the box.

Finch glanced at his friend cautiously before lifting the lid. "Is everything alright?"

Reese took a long sip of his drink. "Why wouldn't it, Harold?"

"You seem...happy," Finch observed.

"I'm always happy."

"Different, then." Finch took one of the pastries out and looked at it. "Is everything okay?"

"Same as it's been." Reese didn't elaborate.

"Have you tried to contact Detective Carter?"

"She's still not talking to me."

"Have you apologized?"

"Difficult to apologize to someone who won't have anything to do with you, Finch." Reese said with a sad sigh.

"There are things you could do to bring her around," Finch offered. "Maybe flowers or candy."

"Does Carter look like the 'flowers and candy' type of person to you?"

"Maybe take her out to dinner?"

"I think I can handle this without your help."

"How is that website working for you?" Finch changed the subject.

"It's good."

"Did you meet anyone?" Finch prompted.

Reese shot his friend a glance. "Are you saying that you don't know?"

"I take exception to that. I would never monitor your computer activity, Mr. Reese," Finch looked offended.

"I'm sorry, Harold. I did meet someone."

"A woman, I hope."

The computer made a noise to indicate that information had arrived.

"Did we get a new number?" Reese stepped over to look at the monitor.

"As a matter of fact, we did." Finch's fingers flew over the keyboard. "A Darlene Escavedo in Queens. It seems her landlord is going to make sure that her rent control agreement is up today."

Reese drained his cup quickly. "I'm on it."

"I'll send you the information."

"I might need to call Fusco."

"He and Detective Carter are currently busy in Washington Heights," Finch replied. "A drive-by shooting this morning."

"Guess I'll have to leave the perp gift wrapped for our detectives," Reese said. "I'll be back shortly." He hurried off to complete his mission.

"Now for step two," Finch said under his breath and clicked on the mouse.


	4. Chapter 4

**Cupid**

* * *

"Hello, Detective," Finch greeted.

"I thought we had an agreement," Fusco charged head first without returning the greeting. "I was going to give you the idea of our mutual friends getting together, and you were going to use your computer skills to make it happen."

"I'm working on it."

"Bullshit. I spoke to Carter this morning. It seems she got online with that dating site she frequents and met some guy." Fusco looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping on his conversation. "Now she's smitten." He lowered his voice.

"Smitten?"

"Yeah. Smitten. Under the spell of. I thought a wordsmith like yourself would be familiar with the word," Fusco returned sarcastically.

"I'm quite familiar with the word, Detective," Finch replied evenly.

"Well, she's hiding it – although not very well, but I can tell that she's over the moon with this guy. I should have known better than to involve you."

"Detective Fusco..."

"Now what are we going to do? John isn't going to have a chance going up against this guy – unless it's with his fists. Carter is never going to let this one go. Another plan bites the dust," he groused angrily.

"Detective..." Finch tried to get a word in edgewise but was interrupted again.

"How do we know this guy isn't some kind of grifter who seeks out lonely hearts and then milks women for all they got, and he's got his sight set on Carter? I know what I told Carter about my great-uncle Conrad, but I didn't tell her that he's been married seven times and plays the field harder than Warren Beatty in his youth!"

"Conrad is Mr. Reese's middle name," Finch cut into Fusco's tirade. For a long moment the line was silent.

"Well, why didn't you say so? That changes everything."

"As for the possibility of another person seeking Joss out...I have made sure that our mutual friends are guaranteed privacy as they get to know one another."

"That's great."

"In regard to the other parts of the plan..." Finch typed his request into the search bar and hit enter. "...I have that taken care of."

"Want to let me in on what it is?" Fusco asked.

"Don't you have a murder investigation that requires your attention?"

"Yes, but..."

"I'll talk to you later, Detective." Finch hit the button on the phone and disconnected the call. For a moment he relished in the pure quiet and stillness.

Turning his attention to the computer, he made the selections he wanted and entered the necessary information. One moment later the verification was given.

"Okay, Mr. Reese, if you won't do it, I will. Now we sit back and wait."  
*******

"I'm looking for Detective Joss Carter," a high-pitched voice inquired from behind the large arrangement of flowers. Every person in the bullpen stopped what they were doing and turned to look at the delivery guy.

"I'm Joss Carter," she stated and raised her hand. Looking up as the man walked toward her, she paused in disbelief as her mouth dropped open.

"These are for you. First, sign here." He handed her the bill of delivery. "Do you have a pen?"

"Yeah." Joss grabbed her pen and the pad. Quickly she scribbled her name.

"Here." Without much warning, he dumped the bouquet into Joss's arms. "Thanks." Without looking backwards, he rushed out of the precinct. The chatter started low as eyes glanced toward the desk then looked away. Joss felt her cheeks flush hot.

Fusco walked in, stopped, then took a double take.

"Where did those come from?" he asked with a nod toward the arrangement lying on his partner's desk.

Joss touched the bouquet containing many different coloured roses. "I don't know," she confessed. "They just arrived."

"Is there a card?" Fusco wondered.

Joss looked and came up empty. "Nothing."

"No card. Roses. Secret admirer," Fusco deduced logically. "Maybe they are from that guy you met on line."

Joss flashed him a look. "He doesn't know where I work."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm a detective, Fusco; I know about personal security. And, yes, I'm sure he doesn't know where I work or live."

"Then what about that guy you kicked to the curb?"

"Him? Heh." Joss scoffed, but her heart gave a little jump at the probability. "He doesn't have a romantic bone in his body."

"Then there must be a third party. I talked to my mom. Seems my great-uncle got himself a computer so he could meet young, hot prospects on line."

Joss swallowed hard and hoped the fear she felt wasn't evident on her face. "I don't think it was him."

"Are you sure? You can always look him up and ask. I've been told that he knows how to treat a lady properly," Fusco puffed out his chest. "Been told I get that from him."

"Really?"

"Well, he gained in experience after the fourth marriage."

"Fourth? How many times has he been married?"

"Legally? Seven. He calls it a 'work in progress'.

"Right. Sure." Joss fingered the delicate roses nestled in baby's breath. No one had ever sent her roses – much less flowers. Even her ex didn't see the significance of something so very simple. And now she had a secret admirer. Dare she say she almost felt giddy? Even if Fusco's uncle being her secret admirer took away just a bit of the joy.

Joss looked at her watch. "Look. I'm going to call it a night and get these into water." Pulling on her coat, she prepared to go out into the cold weather.

"You need some help?"

"I got it. Thanks, Fusco." She gathered the bouquet. "See you in the morning, partner."

"You too."  
*****

Are you a 70 yr old man?

_Could you repeat the question?_

Are you 70 yrs old and living in New Jersey?

_Please explain._

Someone sent me flowers today, Joss wrote in the chat block.

_Oh._

My co-worker thinks they may be from his currently single 72 year old uncle who lives in New Jersey and just bought a computer to get on line and meet women.

_And you think they aren't?_

I hope they aren't.

_Do you know who they are from?_

Didn't have a card.

_A secret admirer. Sounds...romantic. Any ideas who might have sent them?_

A couple. You were the first person who came to mind.

_Me?_

I know. Silly. But I was trying to narrow down the field.

_Good guess, but it wasn't me._

I know. My co-worker thinks it might be from a guy I cut loose a couple of weeks ago.

_Do you want it to be from him?_

Yeah. But it wasn't him.

_How do you know?_

I just do.

_Want to talk about it?_

Nothing to talk about.

_Sounds like you need to get it off your chest._

He hurt me, so I let him go.

_He hurt you? How?_

Nothing physically. He broke my trust.

_Ouch._

Yeah.

_Sounds like a jerk._

He wasn't. Not really. He had his good moments.

_But he betrayed you._

Yeah.

_No chance of forgiving him?_

Not likely.

_I admire that._

You do?!

_Sure. You have your standards and he didn't meet them. Sounds as though he is the one who lost._

My friends tell me that I was in the wrong and I need to give him a second chance.

_Does he?_

Does he, what?

_Deserve another chance?_

Joss's fingers hesitated while she internally debated her answer.

Yes and no.

_So, it could go either way. Have you spoken to him?_

No.

_Do you want to speak to him?_

No.

_May I ask why?_

I'm afraid.

_Of what?_

That I might let my guard down. What if I let him in and he hurts me again?

_Understandable. I suppose I would feel the same way if I were in your shoes._

But why do I feel guilty?

_Why should you feel guilty about letting go of someone you can't trust?_

Maybe I place too much value on trust.

_The problem is that most people don't put enough value on trust._

You're right.

_I like talking to you._

I like talking to you, too. I've never been this open with anyone before.

_Me neither._

May I ask a question?

_Sure. What's on you mind?_

Would you have sent me flowers if you had had the chance?

Joss waited as the seconds ticked past and she waited for the response from her online friend. What was taking him so long?

Her heart beat quickly as the words _"Conrad is typing..."_ flashed over the response box. A few moments later his response popped into the chat.

_I'm sorry, but I have to go. I just got called into work. Seems some last minute job needs to be completed and I'm the only one who can do it._

Oh. The boss man calleth, I suppose.

_See you tomorrow?_

Sure. Stay safe.

_You too._

Reese logged out and turned off his computer. He glanced down at the message on his phone. Pressing a button, he connected to Finch.

"Yes, Harold?"

"A number has come in."

"It's a matter of life or death," Reese tried not to sound irritated by the interruption.

"I'm sorry, but it is."

"Send me the address and I'll take care of it." Reese pulled on his suit jacket. He reached for his long over coat and gloves sitting on the chair.

"Thank you, Mr. Reese."

Reese threw a look at the computer screen. For the first time in his life he wanted to shirk his responsibility and continue wasting time just chatting about nothing but the weather. When had he ever felt that way?

Shaking his head, he gave himself a little reprimand. He had a job to do and it didn't involve chatting with a stranger on a dating site. It could wait until he eliminated the perpetrator.

Pulling on his gloves, he grabbed his weapon and phone and departed the loft.


	5. Chapter 5

_I know that dialogue is not the most compelling part of a romantic story, but this is where the characters are leading me. If there is going to be any resolution between Joss and Reese in time for Valentine's Day, Maggie and Conrad are going to have to work it out for them._

* * *

**Cupid**

"The roses were a great touch," Fusco complimented.

"Thank you, Detective."

"Glad you gave me the heads up so I could plant that seed about my uncle."

"I'm sure Joss will appreciate it after all is said and done."

"Appreciate it? I'm sure she's going to thank us."

"Well, it's possible," Finch agreed. "But she is perfecting her aim at the shooting range today."

"She'll find the humour in it," Fusco amended his previous statement. But he appeared to be more tense by the thought of Joss not understanding his well meaning intentions.

"One could hope."

"Now what?"

"What do you mean?"

"What are we going to do for Tall, Dark and Dangerous? Can't let him feel left out."

"He'll be alright."

"The city is going to be shutdown due to the storm coming, and I doubt there are going to be any deliveries," Fusco pointed out.

"I have it covered, Detective. In fact, you are going to be meeting him for drinks at the corner pub in fifteen minutes."

"What?" Fusco nearly shouted. "What am I supposed to talk to him about?"

"You'll figure it out, I'm sure. Don't be late."

"Finch!"

Finch disconnected the call. If Detective Fusco got through to Mr. Reese the way he planned, then the next phase would be easy to implement.

Not one to every rely on chance – that wasn't in his nature – but for the first time since he could remember, Finch crossed his fingers.  
******

Reese sipped the aged scotch and let the potent liquid burn a path down his throat. It was going to be a long night – again – and Joss was still refusing his calls. At this point, all he wanted to get drunk.

"There you are," Lionel greeted enthusiastically.

"How did you find me?"

Lionel slid on to the stool next to his mutual friend. "No reports of perps getting shot in the kneecaps came in, so I figured you would be cooling off at the local watering hole."

Reese brought the glass to his lips. "Sure."

Lionel looked offended. "I'm a detective, remember?"

"You could say that."

Lionel turned to the bartender. "Sprite with a twist."

"I see you're hitting the hard stuff head on," Reese quipped.

"Gotta drive and pick up my son. Weekend sleep-over. Looks like you're getting a head start on reverie." Lionel sipped the tangy carbonated drink.

"Just thinking."

"Yeah. I used to think I did my best thinking while my brain was drowning in liquor. So, what's up?"

"Nothing."

"Lady problems."

Reese turned his head and shot Lionel a heated look. "How is it whenever I want to be alone, you manage to root me out?"

"Talent that comes with carrying the badge," he grinned broadly. "So, talk to me."

"About...?"

"What's going on with you. It's been a while..."

"Two weeks."

"Semantics. I figure we need to hang out more together, you know. Get to know one another."

"Did Harold send you?"

Lionel looked offended. "What? I can't care for a friend without being coerced?" Reese raised his eyebrow. "He may have mentioned it," Lionel conceded reluctantly.

"I'm fine, Lionel."

"Well, you do look better than the last time I saw you." Lionel rested his elbow on the counter. "You kiss and make up with your ladyfriend?"

Reese brought the glass to his lips. "No."

"Still not talking to you, heh?"

"No."

"But..."

"But, what?" Reese muttered in monotone.

"Nothing. You know, maybe if you did something for her." Lionel shrugged. "Maybe send her some flowers...or candy."

"What do you know about it?"

Lionel gave a short scoff. "I was once married."

"'Once' being the subjective word."

"It wasn't all bad. We had our good moments. But I learned from it."

"_After_ you were divorced," Reese pointed out flatly.

"Lessons learned, my friend. Reach out, talk to her. What do you have to lose?"

"It's not that simple, Lionel."

"Everything is that simple, friend. Maybe she misses you as much as you miss her."

"Heh."

"I've never known you to back down from a fight."

Reese turned to look at the man who, despite everything, was making – dare he say, sense?

"Everyone you've gone up against and it's going to be a woman who defeats you."

"With all of this relationship advice you have, why are you divorced?" Reese wondered with a shake of his head.

"Because I found out too late that it's best to owe up to your faults and say you're sorry."

"I've tried, Lionel."

"Try harder. She can't be that cold and unforgiving. And if she is, you don't need her."

"I need her," Reese murmured against the rim of the glass.

"You know, Valentine's Day is right around the corner."

"Okay."

"Great, I'm stuck in a bar with 'Mr. Unromantic," Fusco groused and shifted his weight on the wooden stool. "Send her something."

"Flowers and chocolates."

"It's a good start. Tulips work."

"And this will get me back in her good graces?"

Fusco shrugged. "I can't make any guarantees, but you sure aren't scoring any points by sitting on a bar stool in a pub trying to drink her memory away," he remarked with a scoff.

"Tulips. Any colour?"

"Well, I would go with red, myself. But if you don't want to state how you really feel right off the bat, try her favourite colour. You do know that, don't you?"

Reese felt the wheels in his brain start spinning. Did he know what Joss's favourite colour was? How could he find out.

"If you don't know," Fusco continued, "you can always go on line and find out."

"Thanks, Lionel." Reese got up from the stool. "You got this, right?" he asked before quickly disappearing from sight.

"No," Fusco said too late. "Geez." Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet and threw a few bills on the counter. "Thanks for nothing, pal," he grumbled.

Looking down at his watch, he noticed the time. He had to pick up Lee. His friends' romantic entanglements could wait until Monday.  
****

_How do you tell someone you're sorry?_

Depends on what you did.

_I wasn't totally forthcoming before I did something out of character._

You mean rushing head on into something before thinking things through?

_In a way. Yes._

That's tough. Umm...how badly did you screw up?

_People got hurt._

Oh boy. This isn't good.

_No, it's not._

And the person you weren't honest with is a woman?

_Yes. How did you know?_

Woman's intuition. :) What is she like?

_She's the most honest person I've ever met._

You might have to work a bit to get back into her heart.

_That is what a friend told me._

Oh?

_And buy her flowers. That was his suggestion._

That is a good start.

_I don't know, though. Isn't that a little trite?_

Flowers? Every woman likes flowers.

_I don't know if she does._

How well do you know her?

_I thought I knew her pretty well, but now I'm not so sure._

Maybe you should call her.

_I'm not sure she is in any mood to talk to me._

She can't be that cold hearted. You said she is honest.

_But she has her limits._

Did you burn her house down? Give her dog away?

_None of the above. You wouldn't understand_.

Try me. I have a pretty open mind about things.

_What about a decision that results in someone getting injured?_

Make amends.

_I'm trying. I'm afraid that if I call her again she'll change her number._

Want some advice?

_Where I am right now, it can't hurt._

You've tried to apologize, but she's throw up walls.

_Yes._

I say let her go.

_Did I read that correctly? Did you say to let her go?_

Yes. From what you've told me, she doesn't deserve you.

_Maybe I don't deserve her._

That's what she wants you to think. How does she feel about you?

_I think she likes me. Or liked me._

Does she love you?

_I never asked._

If she loves you, you wouldn't have to ask. Do you love her?

_It's a...little difficult to explain. Words don't come easy for me._

You seem to be doing a pretty good job chatting with me. :)

_I like you._

I like you too.

_What did you do with the roses?_

Putting thirty-six roses in my house took a little ingenuity.

_Oh?_

Got some in the bathroom.

_Sounds different._

I won't be winning the "Martha Stewart of The Year Award". Oh, look at the time.

_I didn't mean to keep you up past midnight._

I'm a big girl. I'll survive. But back to the woman you're pining over...

_Yes?_

Let her go. Find someone else.

_I don't know. I'll have to think about it._

Okay. Good night.

_Sweet dreams._

Joss turned off the computer. Maybe she was a little out of line telling a stranger how to live their life, but it didn't seem fair that a man as nice as Conrad was being treated so horribly by a woman who didn't even appreciate him.

No, she decided as she turned down the covers and slipped into bed, Conrad would at least be given a second chance in her book. Mistakes happened.

"I just hope I never cross that woman's path," Joss said aloud. "It won't be pretty."


	6. Chapter 6

_I was hoping to have this finished by Valentine's Day, but that may not happen. But trust me when I promise that it will be resolved as soon as possible. That said, Joss is going to make a decision that could ultimately change her life._

* * *

**Cupid**

Reese wasn't sure what he should do. But as he stood outside Joss's apartment, in the freezing cold, he wondered if he shouldn't just take Maggie's advice and move on. What would it hurt? Joss obviously wanted nothing to do with him – despite his numerous attempts at apologizing. Maybe this was payback for the way he had treated Jessica so coldly by walking away instead of listening to what she had to say.

Her light was on, he observed. She was still awake. He could only imagine what she was doing, what she was thinking, alone in the house by herself.

He shivered as the wind picked up. It was going to be a cold night, he surmised and pulled the overcoat a little tighter around his frame. He looked up at the sky. The stars were gone – a good indicator that it was going to snow. Maybe they would get a blizzard so crime would take a break. Lord knew he needed it.

Joss's light was still on.

Turning on his heel, he walked away.  
*****

_Are you home due to the storm?_

Yes. You?

_You could say that._

I can't believe how hard the wind is blowing. Doesn't feel like New York.

_The wind is like this out in Colorado._

You're from Colorado?

_I spent some time there when I was younger. I remember the winters and the cold. You? Where are you from?_

I was born in Virginia.

_It gets cold there._

I don't think I can compare this to that. It's cold no matter how you look at it. You like the cold?

_Sometimes. I've lived where it gets colder._

Germany gets cold. Beats this hands down.

_Definitely does. You lived there?_

For about a year. I was an exchange student in high school.

_Oh?_

Wanted to get out and see the world. It helped me decide on what career I wanted to follow. You?

_I've been here and there. Nothing worth mentioning._

Um...I want to apologize for overstepping my bounds yesterday.

_What do you mean?_

Telling you let that woman go.

_Nothing to apologize for. You were being honest._

Still...I shouldn't have told you what to do with your love life.

_Heh. What love life? _

Amen to that.

(Pause)

_(Conrad is typing...)_

_I went by her house tonight._

Oh? What happened? Did you talk to her?

_No._

Why?

_I figured she had more important things to do._

Than to talk to you? I can't believe that. Maybe you should have – I don't know, knocked on the door.

_She wouldn't have answered._

How do you know?

_I know._

Maybe she wasn't home.

_She was home._

How do you know?

_Her lights were on._

Oh.

_I've thought about it. Maybe you're right. About letting her go._

You sound doubtful.

_It's difficult. I rested so much on her. She saved me._

Saved you? How?

_She gave me a reason to live again. I had hit a low in my life and wondered if I should keep living when she walked in and changed my mind._

Oh. Did you ever tell her this?

_No. _

Why not?

_I didn't think it mattered._

Maybe she would have liked to know that she made a difference in your life. Women like to know that once in a while their advice is taken.

_She won't listen. I waited too long...again._

Again?

_I've been in love before. And I did the wrong thing and let someone that I cared about go. I could have made them stay._

But what happened?

_She wanted to stay. I thought she would be better without me._

Was she? Better without you?

_No. She wasn't._

How do you know?

_She died._

I'm sorry.

_Don't be. It was my fault._

No, it wasn't. You didn't kill her.

_I feel responsible._

Anyone ever tell you that you have a martyr's complex?

_Not recently._

Do you want my opinion?

_Yes._

This is just dime store advice, but let me see if I have this straight: You loved a woman, shoved her out of your life, then she dies. You think it was your fault, and gave up. Another woman enters your life, gives you a reason to live, you fall in love but do something to hurt her, and she shoves you out of her life. Sounds like you need to rethink your strategy.

_When you sum it up that way...I guess you're right._

Have you ever thought that it might be them and not you?

_What do you mean?_

If these women cared for you half as much as you cared for them, they wouldn't let you go.

_You don't know me that well._

Would you lie to me?

_No._

Not even if it was a matter of life or death or that my liking you was a factor not to?

_No. Honesty is the best policy._

This is why I think that what happened with those last two women may have been just as much their fault as it was yours.

_I don't know._

I won't lie to you.

_Why?_

Why won't I lie to you?

_Yes._

Because I like you. And for some reason I feel as though I know you.

_I feel the same way._

It's funny.

_What is?_

How you can be around someone all the time and not know anything about them, but you meet a stranger and you automatically click. What's the word for it?

_Kismet._

Yeah, kismet. So, other than pining over your lost loves, what are you doing right now?

_Sitting at the computer, sipping hot chocolate, listening to old R&amp;B classics. __You?_

Sitting in front of the computer, wrapped in a heavy robe with fuzzy slippers, sipping on coffee.

_:)_

You like R&amp;B?

_Amongst other music, yes. You?_

A little of everything. I'm a Smokey girl.

_Nothing wrong with Smokey. I like it all._

A man after my own heart. 3

_I didn't know it was that easy to win your heart that way._

Well, you are one of the first men to impress me.

_I take that as a compliment._

You should.

_Anything on the calendar today?_

No, there isn't. What do you have planned since we're all snowed in?

_Maybe kicking back and relaxing. Take in a movie or two. You?_

Nice long hot bath and a good book. Chances are there will be work tomorrow.

_Sounds like a plan._

Hmm hmm. A GOOD plan. Guess I'd better get off here.

_It was nice talking to you._

You too. And don't let any of your exes bother you. Okay?

_Okay._

Joss clicked off and leaned back in her chair. As she watched the snow flurries fall rapidly to the ground, she brought the cup of now cold coffee to her lips. She couldn't tell herself why she felt so good, but there was something lighter in her heart – a feeling she almost couldn't explain. It wasn't love, but it was pretty close to it, and it scared her.

There was only one thing to do, and it was going against everything she believed in, but maybe it was time to meet the man behind the handle. At least put a face with a name and see if the feeling was a flicker or a flame.

She drained her cup and stood up. Yeah, she decided, it was time to meet face to face – before she let her heart fall too far.


	7. Chapter 7

_I cannot apologize enough for the lateness. It's been a very busy and crazy week without much sleep. Unfortunately, I don't think I'm going to have this finished by my self-imposed deadline. I hope you forgive me. Yes, there are TWO bookstores mentioned in this chapter and they will play a big part in the next chapter, so don't worry because it will work out._

_This chapter is dedicated to Scherrille, Amy, and Alex. Thanks for the bookstore information!_

* * *

**Cupid**

Even with a snow day, there was paperwork to sign and review and file. But today it seemed worse, Fusco groused bitterly.

"What happened to going paperless?" he wondered to no one in particular.

"Good theory on paper," Joss returned.

"Very funny." Fusco signed his name at the bottom of the report and threw it on to the stack to his right. Maybe it was getting taller, but he couldn't tell. But he swore the stack to his left was growing by the minute.

"What's wrong?" Joss asked.

"I think my reports mated while we were closed for the storm." He signed his name again. He stood up and stretched. "I need coffee."

"I just made a pot."

"You're a life-saver, Carter." Fusco grabbed his mug and walked over to the coffee pot. The scent of the fresh brew tickled his nostrils. Dare he say that he was glad to be back?

He looked over at his partner. "You look different," he observed.

"I got some sleep."

Fusco peered closely at Joss. "Nah. That's not it. There is something different about you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Is it that guy you met on line?"

Joss gave him a smile that warned him to drop the subject. "I don't want to talk about it."

Fusco's eyes widened. "It is!"

"Drop it, Fusco."

"Come on, Carter. Tell me something."

Joss picked up a donut from the box sitting on the coffee stand. "Something," she replied and dropped the pastry in Fusco's hands. Turning on her heel, she walked briskly to her desk.

"You like him."

"Shhh!"

Fusco sat on the corner of the desk and took a bite of the donut. "You do."

"So?" Joss tried to busy herself with the stack of papers. Maybe if she appeared to be busy, Fusco would take the hint and leave her alone.

"Did you guys chat again?"

Joss sighed. "And if we did?"

"What did you talk about?"

Joss set the folder on the desk. "We didn't talk about you. Feel better?"

Fusco cocked his head and gave her a wounded look. "You know how to hurt a guy, Carter."

"Shooting you in the precinct would raise too many questions."

"Touche. So, you and this guy clicked?"

"You're not going to drop this, are you?"

"I can't. You see, I'm an inquisitive guy."

"Who is getting on my nerve," Joss shot back. Fusco took another bite and waited. "Okay. We talked. We are getting to know one another. I like him. I think he likes me. I wish I could know him in real life. There! Are you satisfied?"

"Was that so hard?"

Joss slumped her shoulders. "No. No, it wasn't."

"So, you like him. That's great. It's good that you found someone to talk to."

Joss looked around the room before lowering her voice. "I've decided that I think we should meet."

"Say again."

"I think he and I should meet."

Fusco leaned in close. Concern was on his face. "Are you sure that's wise? I mean, how well do you know this guy?"

"We've talked every night for a week," Joss replied and busied herself with her coffee.

"Yeah, you've 'talked', but have you really gotten to know one another?"

"What do you mean?"

"How do you know he's being truthful with you? Maybe he's just stringing you along. That's what those internet predators do to lonely women."

Joss's eyes narrowed. "Are you saying that I'm lonely?"

Fusco shifted uncomfortably now that he was being put on the spot. "I'm saying that maybe you should get to know this guy a little better before you do something drastic."

"Heh. It's not like I'm going to bed with him, Lionel. I just want to meet him for coffee. Maybe get to know him."

"I don't know..." Fusco hedged. He could feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat.

"You think this is a bad idea."

Fusco tugged at his tie. "I think...you should wait."

"Is there something going on that I should know about?"

"Nothing. Do you think it's wise? I mean how well do you know this guy? He could be a serial killer, Carter."

She gave a little laugh and shook her head. "I doubt that."

"We see a lot of stuff everyday – bad stuff because people trusted the wrong person – so, I'm worried. Arrest me."

"I'm going to be armed and in a public place," Joss assured her partner. "I doubt that he is going to try anything."

Fusco weighed her argument carefully before responding. "May I ask where this meeting is going to take place?"

Joss sipped her coffee. "Why? Are you planning on staking the place out and taking him down if he does anything questionable toward my person?" she snarked.

"Good idea, but I don't even know what this guy looks like." Fusco crossed his fingers tightly and made a vow to visit the Confessional booth for the first time in decades.

"What about 'Strands' as a meeting place? Lots of people, open space, less likely to give him a chance to cause trouble."

"How about the little corner coffee shop down on 12th?" he tossed out a suggestion. "Ost?"

"That's a nice place," Joss complimented. "Fine," she conceded. "Happy?"

"Okay. Sure," Fusco agreed reluctantly. "When are you going to ask him?"

"Tonight. When I get home. I need to talk it over with Taylor first."

"That's smart. Think he'll agree?"

"I respect his opinion, but it is my life," she replied firmly, leaving no room for argument.

"If you want, I can go and be a look out for you," Fusco offered.

Joss gave a little laugh. "Like a bodyguard? No thanks. But thanks for the offer, Lionel."

Fusco stood up. "Well, you have my number, so give a call if you change your mind."

"I'll think about it."

"You do that. Me, I'm going to get another one of those donuts before the rookies take them."

"You get on it, Lionel." Joss turned her attention from her partner to the stack of papers.

Fusco ducked around the wall to the hallway and pulled out his phone.

"Yes, Detective?" Finch answered.

"We have got a problem, Finch," Fusco replied breathlessly. He tried to keep his voice down, but everything he worked for was on the verge of being decimated due to not thinking things through.

"I think our plan just went sideways."

"What exactly do you mean, Detective?"

"Carter wants to meet with her 'love match'. What are we going to do?" Fusco told himself he wasn't going to panic. He had been through worse. But this time lives hung on the line, and one of them was his!

"I can see how is going to be a problem."

"What are we going to do?"

"I have it covered."

"Okay." Fusco nodded. "But that doesn't answer the question, Finch."

"Trust me. It's taken care of. Do you know the name of the store the meeting is to take place?"

"Ost. She wanted to go to Stands."

Finch quickly typed the information into the computer and waited for the results.

"I hear you typing, Finch," Fusco acknowledged, "but what are we going to do? Everything is sideways, my life and career are on the line, and there is no telling what Carter will do if and when she gets hold of you," he pointed out matter of factly.

"I'm quite aware of how dire the situation is, Detective," Finch replied with just a touch of irritation in his tone. "I have this under control."

"Are you sure?" Fusco looked around to make sure he wasn't being overheard.

"Positive. I'm sure that you have donuts and files to get back to." And with that, Finch clicked off.

Fusco stared at the phone for a few seconds. "I hope you do. Joss will have my ass, and I'm rather attached to it," he mumbled to no one in particular and headed back to his desk.


	8. Chapter 8

_Joss has her mind set to meet her online friend. But first she has to run it past Taylor and "Conrad". Talk about having to clear some hurdles! The good news is that they will meet._

* * *

**Cupid**

Joss stood in front of the full length mirror and held the dress against her body. Turning to the left and then the right, she posed in hope that it was what she wanted for the big meeting.

"Nope," she muttered and threw the dress on the bed with the rest of the pile. Reaching into the closet, she pulled another dress off the rack. Tilting her head, she bit her lip.

"Maybe." She put the dress over the back of the chair.

"Mom?" Taylor's voice called from downstairs.

"Up here," she answered and grabbed a pair of slacks and a satin blouse. "Maybe I should wear slack," she considered the option.

"Hey!" Taylor appeared in the doorway. Eyebrows raised, he looked at the pile of clothes on the Queen sized bed. "Are you getting ready to have a yard sale?" he wondered.

"No." Joss sighed and threw the clothes to join the rest. "I can't figure out what to wear."

Taylor smiled. "Why? You got a hot date or something?"

Joss turned to look at her son. "Uh...Taylor...I need to ask you a question."

He gave a shrug. "Sure."

"What would you say if I told you that I joined a dating site?"

"You? A dating site?" he gave a laugh. "A little desperate, Mom?"

"Not funny, T." Joss reached for a hanger. Taylor laid his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I made a bad joke. Seriously, though, you joined a dating site?"

Joss sighed and slumped her shoulders. "Yeah, I did."

Taylor glanced at the bed. "And from the amount of clothes on your bed, you are going out on a date?" he guessed.

"Not exactly. We haven't met," she confessed and braced herself for an accusatory retort.

"You haven't met, but you're going on a date?"

"I – he and I," she corrected quickly, "we've been chatting on line...the past few days."

"So, that is what all the typing from your room has been?"

"Yes." She watched Taylor carefully for any sign that he might not be accepting of her desire to have a life. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know, Mom," he answered truthfully. "I like that you are taking the initiative and trying to get out and have fun."

"But?" she prompted for him to continue.

"I keep thinking about all the things you've told me about going on line and meeting people. How do you know that this guy is who he is? He might be one of those sadistic killers from Craig's List or something."

"I'm aware of the consequences."

"Are you really that hard up?"

Joss' eye narrowed. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Taylor shrugged in the typical way teenagers do when confronted.

"Why else would you be meeting a total stranger in the middle of nowhere unless you want to have a fling with no strings?" he stated, but his eyes were unable to meet Joss'.

Joss felt her anger begin to boil. "Excuse me, young man, but just because I want to meet someone doesn't mean that I am going to bed with him," she stated hotly and grabbed a few of the clothes. Angrily, she slapped them on the rod in the closet. An awkward and uncomfortable silence filled the room.

Tears filled her eyes and she vowed not to let emotions control her. After all, wasn't it her idea to ask Taylor for his input? What other conclusion did she expect when she told him that she was meeting a stranger she friended on line?

_Not that I was going to put out on the first date, _she fumed and blindly reached for more hangers. She was stopped by Taylor's hand closing over hers.

"Mom, I'm sorry."

"That hurt, Taylor," her voice quavered.

"I'm sorry. I should have thought before I spoke. But I'm worried, Mom. What if he wants to meet at some isolated place in the middle of nowhere?" Taylor asked. His eyes were full of concern.

Joss reached out and cupped Taylor's cheek lovingly. "That's not going to happen. I'm not meeting him in an isolated place. Plus, I'll be armed," she added for effect. Her smile tried to reassure him that she knew exactly what she was doing.

Taylor nodded. "I guess that will be okay. When are you going to meet him?"

"I haven't asked him yet. I wanted to run the idea by you before doing anything."

"You wanted my say?" Taylor was impressed to be included in his mother's personal life.

"Yes. It is a decision that affects you, so I wanted to get your opinion. If you don't want me to go, I'll understand."

"No. You go, Mom. If you like him and trust him, then I'm okay with it. Want me to with you?"

Joss gave a little laugh. "Thanks for the offer, T, but I'm sure I can handle it. It's only coffee. Besides, I'm sure you have better things to do than guard me."

"Studying for mid-term exams."

"Looks like I'm the one who lucked out."

"You're crazy, Mom."

Joss patted his cheek and leaned in to give him a quick kiss. "That's why you love me. For your information, we'll be meeting at Ost at eight. I should be home by ten. If I'm not, you and Detective Fusco may come to rescue me. Deal?"

"Yeah. Deal." Taylor looked at the pile and pulled out a soft purple coloured dress with silver stripes. "I think you should wear this. Even if he turns out to be a frog, you might as well look good," he suggested.

Joss held the dress up. "Thanks."  
****

I think we should meet, Joss typed without any hesitation the moment the computer let her know Conrad was on line.

_Meet? As in person to person?_

That's the idea.

_Why?_

Why would I want to meet you?

_Yes._

Because I like you – or rather the person you are on line, and I think we should meet for coffee. You know, get to know one another.

_How do you know that you'll like what you see when or if we meet?_

I don't know, but you can't be any different than the person I've been chatting with the past week. If truth be known, I'm afraid that you might not like what you meet.

_Impossible._

Well, we won't know until we do meet. So...do you want to meet?

_If I say yes?_

I'm happy.

_And where would you like for this meeting to take place?_

Tomorrow night. There is a cafe called Ost. Are you familiar with it? The one on 12th?

Joss hit ENTER and waited.

_[Conrad is typing...]_

_I'm familiar with it. What time?_

Eight?

_Eight is good._

We'll have dinner there.

_Dinner?_

My treat since I'm asking you out.

_How will I know it's you?_

I'll be wearing a purple and silver dress and I'll be reading a book. You won't be able to miss me.

_If you look anything like you type, I'm sure that I can't miss you._

LOL. You are really laying it on thick. :)

_Maybe. Are you sure of this?_

Very. I really want to meet you and get to know you.

_Me too. I only hope that you aren't disappointed._

That's never going to happen. See you tomorrow night.

_See you. Good night, Maggie._

Good night, Conrad.


	9. Chapter 9

_I know what you all want, and I agree that it would be too easy to wrap this up in a pretty bow and deliver it with a fluffy, sappy ending. But that isn't how I write. Plus, there are too many unanswered questions and problems to be resolved. And besides, our star-crossed lovers are only on day 7. There is one week left before Valentine's Day (in the story). If the ending is going to be happy, it's going to be worthwhile and lasting. CaReese deserves nothing less! Besides, you didn't think I was going to write Fusco meddling without it coming back to bite him in the ass, did you?_

* * *

**Cupid**

Joss took another look at herself in the mirror. She wasn't nervous, or that is what she told herself, but she touched her hair.

"You look great, Mom," Taylor complimented as he walked from the kitchen to the living room with a plate in his hands.

"Thanks. Where are you going with that?" Joss asked.

"The game is on and I thought..." Taylor made the weak excuse that faded from his lips at his mother's look.

"The dining room is right over there." Joss pointed to the room directly to her left.

"Aw, Mom," Taylor protested. "It's the game."

"Remember the last time I let you eat in the living room?"

"I was six!"

Joss thought for a moment before replying, "This time. No feet on the coffee table."

"I know. I know." He looked his mother over. "You really look great. That guy is never going to know what hit him," he grinned.

"Heh. Good try, T." Joss ruffled his hair. "But you're still going to bed when I get home."

Taylor tried to pull back. "Man. That is not fair."

"It's a school night."

"It's _Friday_ night."

Joss reconsidered. "Okay. When the game is over."

"Thanks." Taylor kissed Joss' cheek.

"I'll be home by ten thirty," Joss stated as she pulled on her heavy coat and wrapped the scarf around her neck.

"Good luck, Mom," Taylor called out as Joss closed the door behind her.  
*****

Reese sat at the table beside the large paned window. In his hand he held a bouquet of yellow tulips. The other hand tugged nervously at his tie. Twice he looked down at his watch and noticed that the hands had barely moved.

Yes, he promised to meet Maggie at eight – and although he was early – he hadn't wanted to miss the moment he finally got to put a face with the comments. Earlier that morning he felt he had finally put the possibility of a relationship with Joss Carter to rest. And to his surprise, he didn't feel the stab of loss he expected as he let go.

A couple of people walked thru the door and he straightened up only to relax. They weren't her. He sipped his lukewarm coffee and tried to tap down his excitement.

Then he saw her and his mouth went dry.

_No_, he thought to himself, _it isn't possible. _But as Joss Carter walked inside and shook the snow from her hair, he had to consider the possibility that maybe his secret internet friend was the woman of his heart.  
****

Joss shook the snow from her hair and stamped her foot to get the feeling back in her toes. It was colder than expected and she was winded just from the walk alone. Now she needed a hot cup of coffee and soak in the warmth of the room before her date showed up.

Then the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She was being watched. Turning slowly around, she froze, blinked, then felt her blood boil hot.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed as she stepped over to where Reese was sitting.

"Hello, Joss," Reese greeted in his casual nonplussed way. "I didn't expect you here."

"The hell you didn't, John."

"What does that mean?"

"You know exactly what that means! I told you that I didn't want to be involved with you and your friend anymore."

"Yes, you did."

"I meant it."

"I'm sure that you did. I-"

Joss put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "That also means that you both need to stop bugging my phone. Enough is enough."

"Joss-"

"No, John. I meant it. I'm finished, I'm through." Her hand shook as she brushed a lock of hair from her face. "All I wanted was a night to myself. Was that too much to ask?"

"I didn't expect you to be here," Reese stated his defense carefully. "I'm here to meet someone."

"Sure you are, John. You're trying to figure out how to weasel your way back into my life so I can continue running interference as you and our mutual friend continue to skirt around the law."

"Joss, it's not like that," Reese protested. His eyes flicked toward the door as more patrons walked in. He hoped one of them would head his way, but they went in the opposite direction.

"I guess your plan backfired," Joss remarked. "If you and Harold are going to lie to spy on me, at least next time make sure you have a real person ready to play the role."

"You think I'm lying?" Reese was flabbergasted at the thought of Joss entertaining the thought of him stooping so low as to fabricate a date.

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"And me sitting here with flowers is just...what, exactly?" he asked. It took a lot for him to lose his temper, but being called a liar was causing his blood pressure to rise.

"A good cover – weak, but good."

"And your date?" Reese wondered a loud. "Where is he?"

"Probably running late. He has a real job that doesn't include lurking in the shadows and popping bad guys in the kneecaps. He knows how to be truthful and honest, and he knows that my feelings matter. He doesn't hide behind a myth or an urban legend. I wish I had met him first."

The air crackled with electricity as Joss and Reese stared at each other for a long minute.

Reese was the first to look away. He knew when the war was lost. Standing up, he pulled on his long overcoat. Reaching into the pockets, he took out the gloves and slipped his hands inside. Gathering the flowers, he shoved them into Joss's hands.

"What are you doing?" Joss wondered.

"Leaving. There isn't enough room here for the four of us." He buttoned his coat. "Besides, there are bad guys to kneecap," he replied sarcastically.

"What about these?"

"Give them to my date – when she shows up," he dismissed with a shrug. Pushing in his chair, he walked around Joss. "Give her my apologies."

Stepping quickly, he pulled open the door and hurried out to the sidewalk. Within a few seconds he had faded into the crowd. Then he disappeared.

Her mouth still hung open from the shock of what had transpired in the space of a couple of minutes.

"Ma'am?" a pretty waitress in her late teens carefully asked as she approached Joss. "Will you be staying?"

Joss looked at the flowers in her hands and then to the busy sidewalk full of everyone but the man she had just chased off.

"Yes. Yes." Joss took off her coat and scarf and hung them on the back of the chair. "I'll have a coffee with just creamer."

The girl wrote the order down on the pad. "Anything else?"

"Maybe later. Thank you."

"I'll be right back."

Settled in, Joss looked at her watch. She had five minutes to get calmed down and gather her wits after the run in with John. Pulling out the book, she flipped it open to the page with the corner turned down.

The server set the cup and saucer down in front of Joss, then departed.

Joss stirred the java and read the words of the romance story that no longer held much interest. And patiently waited for her knight in shining armour.


	10. Chapter 10

_I am so sorry for taking a while to do an update. Nasty weather and long hours wiped me out. I know that all of you are surprised and appalled at Joss's reaction. I know that it seems out of character for her, but I like writing characters a little different and showing that they aren't just the one dimensional people we see on TV. Besides, Joss had every reason to be pissed at Reese &amp; Finch after "Baby Blue", and we needed to see that instead of watching her hang up every time he called. And if it helps, Finch gets some of his own back in this chapter._

_And FYI: Reese's convo is always in italics._

* * *

**Cupid**

You didn't show. I waited, but you weren't there.

_I was just about to say the same thing._

Where were you?

_I was there. Where were you?_

I was there. Do you think we missed each other?

_I don't know. It's possible. Were you wearing the dress?_

Yes. And I had the book. I waited, but you didn't show.

_I got there early so that I wouldn't miss you._

How did this happen?

_I don't know._

Where were you sitting?

_Next to the window. I don't think you could have missed me._

I have a pretty sharp eye for detail. Were you alone?

_Yes. You?_

Sort of.

_What does that mean?_

Long story.

_Can't be any worse than mine. _

I doubt it.

_What is worse than worse?_

Trust me. My weekend officially bit the dust.

_Because we missed one another? I doubt that. We can try again._

No. No. It wasn't you. Something happened.

_Are you sure you don't want to talk about it? I might be able to help._

I wish, but there is nothing you can do. Not unless you have a magic wand to make the last few hours disappear.

_That sounds bad. But I don't think it's worse than my night._

Do YOU want to talk about?

_Now who is the therapist? :)_

Sorry. I'm a better listener than a talker. It has something to do with trust, I guess.

_Hmmm..._

So, what happened?

_Remember the lady I told you about?_

The one who won't have anything to do with you because you broke her trust?

_That one._

Yes. She change her number?

_Worse. We ran into one another._

Ouch. How did that turn out?

_My body is unscathed, but my pride may need a few stitches._

Oh. That doesn't sound good.

_It gets worse._

I can't imagine how.

_She let me know exactly how she felt about me. In no uncertain terms._

That was cruel. What did you say back to her?

_Nothing. I left. There was no way of replying without things getting out of control._

I suppose that was for the best.

_I wish I had said something._

What could you have said?

_I don't know. Maybe what she said was true._

I think you are giving her too much credit. May I ask what she said?

_She accused me of stalking her and not giving her enough space to live her life. She told me to leave her alone, and as far as she is concerned, the new guy in her life is far superior to me on all levels._

What a bitch!

I'm sorry, Conrad. That was uncalled for, and I apologize.

_No. I understand. You have the right to your opinion._

And you said nothing to counter her?

_I just wanted to get out of there. I couldn't wait for you, Maggie, I'm sorry. _

I understand. I don't think I would have had the same self control.

_It broke my heart to think that she thought so little of me. I just threw the flowers at her and left._

I wish I could have been there to see that.

_Probably best that you weren't._

You didn't deserve that.

As soon as Joss typed, she felt her detective's intuition kick in. Her eyes flicked up to the previous comments.

Wait. You threw flowers at her?

_I did. _

What kind?

_Pink tulips._

Joss's fingers froze on the keyboard. No, she thought to herself, it's not possible. Her heart dropped in to her stomach.

Pink tulips?

_Corny, I know. I didn't know what you would like, so I guessed. Pink was better than yellow or red. _

You are sure they were pink tulips?

_Yes. Why? What's wrong?_

I gotta go.

_What's wrong? Talk to me, Maggie._

I can't. I have to go.

_Will you be on later?_

I don't know. I don't think so.

_Don't go. Was it me? Did I say something wrong?_

I have to go. Bye.

Joss's hand shook as she clicked the mouse to end the chat session. The white hot anger coursing thru her body was almost too overwhelming, and it was all she could do to remember to think. Pressing her index fingers to the corner of her eyes, she tried to stem the flow of tears. There was only one person responsible for the mess, and she would bet everything on it being Finch.

"Damn you, Finch," she cursed. Then she picked up her phone and held it close to her face. "I know you can hear me, Finch. We need to talk. Now!"  
*******

Finch limped slowly down the sidewalk leading to Bryant Park. It was out in the open and guaranteed a bit of security for the meeting Joss Carter had demanded. Although the sun was shining, the wind blew bitterly cold, and he huddled deeper into his thick, wool lined over coat.

Carefully he walked on the frozen concrete path to where Joss was sitting.

"Good morning, Detective," he greeted without much warmth.

"There is nothing good about it, Finch," she returned. "How could you do this to me?"

"Whatever are you talking about?"

Joss stood up. "You know what I mean. You set up the chat on line with John knowing full well that I was going to be the person on the other line. How could you do that?"

"How are you so confident that I am the one behind this?" Finch returned smoothly.

"There is no one else with the talent or the opportunity. How could you do this to me?" she repeated angrily. She shoved her hands deeper into her coat pockets and tried to keep her teeth from chattering.

"All I did was give you the opportunity to meet a great guy on line..."

"Who was John," she interrupted.

"The invite was extended, yes. What you did with it was totally up to you," he finished. "No one forced you to click on the accept tab, Detective," Finch reminded her.

"You set me up. I thought something like this would be beneath you."

"Words wound, Detective Carter," Finch chided with just a hint of sarcasm. "I will admit that I was against this from the beginning, but as I watched John begin to find happiness, maybe it was underhanded, but it wasn't wrong."

"You were against this?" Joss echoed as she replayed the statement over in her head. "You mean that there was someone else involved?"

"Yes."

"Are you saying that John was in on this conspiracy?" Her blood boiled at the thought of the man in the suit betraying her...again.

"Nothing of the sort. John is no more aware of this than you were – or rather are. He's innocent."

"Sure he is," Joss mumbled.

"I assure you, Detective, John would be just as upset at this revelation as you are. Fortunately, he's still in the dark as to your true identity."

"I just don't understand how you could do this to me. After what John did..." Joss shook her head. "I told you, Finch, that I wanted nothing more to do with your operation. And I meant it."

"I agree. I respected your wishes. Someone else had another plan. Someone who had no idea that you and Mr. Reese were no longer speaking to one another."

"Who?" she demanded.

"I think you know who, Joss."

"Fusco. Why?"

"Perhaps because he saw something that you refused to see," Finch theorized.

"He had no right."

"I agree."

"Did you tell him that John betrayed me? How he betrayed me?"

"I would have, but then I realized that it wasn't my place to get involved."

"But it was your place to involve yourself in a deception," Joss countered.

Finch looked up at the sky and noticed the heavy gray clouds moving in. They were due for another storm. In more ways than one.

"How I feel about the situation, has no bearing on why I got involved. As for Mr. Reese betraying you..." Finch took a moment and chose his words carefully. He had seen both sides of the situation, and though he wasn't one to choose sides, he didn't have his favourites, either. "...John did what he thought was best to rescue Leila from the kidnappers. He made the wrong decision, that is true, but everyone has made mistakes. No one is perfect."

"What he did almost cost Szymanski his life. Doesn't that mean something? He betrayed me by going behind my back."

"And in your book, betrayal is the most unforgivable of sins," Finch stated matter-of-factly.

"It is. I don't know if I can ever forgive him."

Finch nodded. "I see your point, Detective. And if you desire it, I will sever connection to John's account effective immediately."

"Thank you, Finch," Joss replied, but her eyes didn't' meet his.

Finch started to turn away, then stopped. "One more thing, Detective. You stated that betrayal is unforgivable in your book and you don't know if you can forgive John. Perhaps I should remind you that you once betrayed him to Agent Snow which resulted in John getting shot. And against my better judgment, he forgave you."

Speechless, Joss looked down at the ground and tried to form a logical reply to the accusation levelled against her. Three times she opened her mouth, but the words wouldn't come. Shamed filled her as she remembered that horrible night when her compass pointed her in the wrong direction and led her to trust someone who made her betray John. It wasn't her fault, she told herself. Besides, she made amends for that. It wasn't the same.

She started to say this to Finch, but when she looked up, he was gone.


	11. Chapter 11

_Here is Joss's confrontation with Fusco. I love writing these two so much! But more than anything I love hearing Fusco's voice in my head! I swear if I can't hear him say it, it doesn't get written. My man has the final say. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Cupid**

The small motel room looked lived in. With both twin beds unmade, a blanket lay haphazardly on the floor – along with a couple of stray towels, shoes, and one sock – while on the round table near the window, two empty pizza boxes lay surrounded by numerous empty soda cans. But the two guys sitting side by side on the end of one of the twin beds couldn't have cared less as they stared intensely at the video game on the TV.

"I'm catching up, Dad," Lee stated with just a hint of victory in his tone. His fingers worked the buttons and joy stick on the small control pad.

"The hell...heck you are," Lionel retorted. Furiously his fingers flew as he tried to keep his score. He loved his son, but that didn't mean he had to allow him to win, Lionel reasoned logically.

"I think you're getting old," Lee chided.

"Almost there..." Lionel executed a maneuver that rushed his car ahead of his son's and past the FINISH line. GAME OVER flashed on the screen.

Jumping up from the bed, Lionel threw the control down on the bed and did a little victory jig. "Who is getting old now?" he tossed out. "Who's the old man now?" He jabbed his thumbs at his chest and harrumphed.

Lee rolled his eyes. "You are."

"Come here, squirt!" Lionel grabbed Lee and put him in a mock choke hold and ruffled his hair. "Old?! Not too old to do this!"

"Dad! Help! Help!" Lee pleaded between giggles.

"Who's old?" Lionel demanded gruffly and loosened his grip. "Who's old?"

"Not you."

Lionel let Lee go. "You got that right," he chortled and patted Lee on the back.

"Double or nothing, Dad?" Lee handed the control over. At that moment there was a knock on the door.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Lionel tried to catch his breath. "Who could that be?" he wondered.

"I don't know, Dad," Lee answered cheekily, "you have to answer it to find out."

"Smart aleck. No cheating," Lionel warned before turning the knob. "Hey, Carter," he greeted with unveiled surprise at the sight of his partner standing in the motel parking lot.

"You got a minute?"

Lionel looked around. Lee was flipping channels on the TV. "Yeah, sure." He stepped out of the motel room and closed the door behind him. "What's up? We got a case or something?"

Joss didn't beat around the bush as she replied, "I know it was you behind the site chat."

Lionel's jubilant demeanor changed instantaneously. "Is that so?"

"Why did you do it?"

"Because someone had to."

"That's not an answer."

"I don't know, Carter. What do you want me to say? The two of you were lonely and maybe it wouldn't hurt if you hooked up and knocked boots a few times?" Lionel asked sarcastically.

"That's a little crude."

"It's nicer than what I had in mind."

Joss tried to suppress her anger. "You do realize I'm not talking to him."

"How was I supposed to know... Wait! You're _not_ talking to him? That means you _were_ talking to him before...?" Slowly the facts began to dawn on Lionel.

"It doesn't matter. What matters is..." Joss argued before being interrupted.

"It _does_ matter. You and Boy Wonder were talking to one another and I didn't know?"

"You didn't know?" Joss was thrown to know that what she thought was fact actually wasn't.

"Hell no," Lionel scoffed.

"It was a secret."

"No shit. I guess I'm always the last to know. Well, that changes everything," he groused.

"The only thing that needs to be changed is you sticking your nose into business that didn't concern you."

The wind slowly began to pick up speed, but neither person seemed to notice as their conversation began to heat up.

"Excuse me," Lionel puffed out his chest. "I didn't know you two were involved."

"We weren't 'involved', Fusco," Joss corrected.

"So, what were you?" he challenged defiantly.

Joss searched to find the correct word to describe what she and the man in the suit shared. "Partners."

"Bullshit."

"What?"

"I'm calling bullshit. What you two had was more than 'partners'. At least on his part."

"He talked to you? What did he say?" Joss demanded.

"You mean did he talk about you?" Lionel returned. "Not by name."

"You had no right."

"Look, Carter," Lionel spread his hands and gave her a beseeching look, "I found the man sitting alone in a pub trying to shove himself into a bottle of Scotch. I figured it had something to do with a woman and I pressed him to tell me more. After he threatened to kick my ass for referring to you as a 'chick', I found out that he had betrayed the trust of a woman he greatly cared about. I gave him some advice on how to win you back. How was I supposed to know it was you?"

"You didn't know at all?" Joss scoffed at the thought that what her partner was saying could be true.

"Not a clue."

"And that night at the stakeout?"

"You were pretty miserable over the guy who you kicked to the curb. I put two and two together..."

"And came up with a plan to screw me over," Joss finished.

"...and figured that I would get my two mutual, miserable friends together so they could forget the losers who hurt them," Lionel corrected. "How was I supposed to know you and he were the same people?" he wondered with a shrug.

"It didn't dawn on you?"

"Math was never my strong suit," he confessed. "Although I had an inclination that something was a little hinky. But I thought that meant I was heading in the right direction."

"You should have listened to your gut."

"Wait a minute! You betrayed him too!" Suddenly the pieces fell into place. "You did. I thought something was up with how cozy you were getting with Snow, and then the way our mutual friend went underground for a couple of weeks, and the strange way you were acting afterward. You had something to do with that," Lionel pointed his finger accusingly toward Joss.

"It's different," she deflected.

"I had to hide a pain bottle in Connecticut to throw that son of a bitch off John's trail," Lionel revealed his role in the coverup. "That means Snow hurt him. I'm guessing John was the recipient of a bullet, and my gut is telling me that you were there."

Joss swallowed and looked away. "There is a lot more to it than that."

"Look, Carter, John pushes my buttons and he's threatened to kick my ass on more than one occasion – twice where you were concerned – but I never once wished him harm. And I know that Snow character was shady from the moment he and his partner walked into the 8th. Why you hooked up with him is beyond me."

"It's water under the bridge."

"For him, not you."

"Did John tell you how he betrayed me and got Szymanski shot?" Joss fumed, but her anger was less than a minute earlier.

"Shit happens, Carter. It's called life. John was trying to rescue a baby from kidnappers and you were protecting a mafia don who killed the mother of his son right in front of the child. As far as I can tell, the protection you were offering was pretty misdirected to begin with."

"He deserved protection," Joss stated vehemently.

"Morretti is a mother killing bastard, Carter. The only thing he deserves is a satin lined casket six feet under. Even then I'm not sure about the casket."

Warily, the Homicide partners eyed one another and waited for the other shoe to drop.

"What's this about, really?" Lionel asked directly. He was tired of pussy-footing around the fucking mulberry bush. And it was getting cold.

"It's about you sticking your nose in business that didn't concern you."

"When my friends are suffering, it concerns me. A lot. I wanted to make things better. So sue me."

"You have no right."

"Pfft. Who gives a damn about right – or wrong – for that matter? The man loves you, Carter."

Joss shook her head. "No."

"The hell he doesn't. He's crazy mad for you. How you don't see it is beyond me. He threatened to shoot me if anything happened to you when Elias put the hit on you. He risked his life to save a baby whose life means more than that of a don. Then he tried to shove himself in a liquor bottle when he thought he lost you. If that isn't love, I have no idea what is."

"It won't work," Joss sighed.

"Won't or can't?" Lionel asked. "You are just as stubborn as he is, but at least he's trying."

"You set us up." Joss shook her head mournfully.

"Yeah, I did. Happy?" Lionel gave her a stupefied look before scoffing. "Now I'm wondering if it was such a great idea. Here I was trying to help Tall, Dark &amp; Dangerous find the woman of his dreams so he could live happily ever after. Maybe it would've been easier to have gotten him a call girl for a night. He doesn't need this garbage."

"You wanted us to sleep together?" Joss was flabbergasted by the thought.

"Not anymore. I want him to be with someone who actually gives a damn about him. Not someone who is going to throw his mistakes back at him every time he turns around. He needs someone who cares."

"Lionel.."

"Forgive and forget, Joss. It's not that difficult. Learn to trust someone because you don't seem to be trusting yourself all that well," Lionel advised. Shivering against the bitterly cold wind, he backed up toward the door.

"I'd love to keep standing here and argue about petty bullshit, but I have my son for the weekend and we have a video game to finish." And with that, Lionel turned the knob and disappeared back inside the motel room.

For a long minute Joss stood and blankly stared at the door. She could hear the sounds of laughter filter from inside.

Sighing, she turned on her heel and walked back to her car.


	12. Chapter 12

_You'll be happy to know that Joss is going to have her "come to Jesus" moment in this chapter. And it's delivered by the last person she ever expects. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Cupid**

"It went sideways, Finch," Lionel spoke low into the phone so his voice wouldn't carry.

"I warned you about involving yourself in a deception, Detective," Finch reminded without sympathy.

"Yeah, well, now is not the time to rub my face in it. She was here."

"Who was there?"

"Joss. And she nearly bit my head off. I'd say that she is pissed, but that might be an understatement."

"I will confess that Detective Carter was none too kind to learn about my involvement, either," Finch confessed to his encounter with the woman he and Fusco had deliberately set out to deceive.

"So, what are we going to do?"

Finch was taken aback by the question. "We? Do? We are not doing anything, Detective; we are staying out of this."

"The hell we are!" Lionel hissed. "We've come too far to back out now. We got to see this through."

"At what price? A bullet? A lost friendship?"

"They deserve to be with one another," Lionel argued passionately.

"I am not sure that I agree with you, Detective," Finch replied without much warmth. "Sometimes it's best to let sleeping dogs lie," he advised.

"They love one another, Glasses," Lionel protested. "I heard it from their lips. They deserve to be with one another – come hell or high water – and if I have anything to say about it."

Finch considered the argument. "Say you are correct, what are you going to do to right the situation and bring our mutual friends together?"

Lionel hung his head in defeat. "I don't know. But the moment it hits me, I am going to need your help."  
******

"Hey, Mom," Taylor greeted and walked out on to the small porch. He closed the sliding glass door behind him.

"Hi, Taylor," Joss smiled at her son.

"It's cold out here," Taylor observed.

"Yeah." Joss turned her attention back to the dark night sky.

"How was your date?"

"How was your game?" Joss returned.

Taylor gave a small laugh. "That good, huh?" He leaned against the railing. "What happened?"

"Nothing worth repeating."

"Hmmm." Taylor shrugged. "He let you down."

Joss turned to give Taylor a surprised look. "What makes you say that?"

"Mom, I've known you for fifteen years. Why else would you be standing outside in the cold, looking up at the sky counting the stars at night?"

"Taylor, I'm not..."

"It's your tell, Mom."

"My what?"

"Your way of making sense of things. So, what happened? He turn out to be a serial killer? Or was he married to eight different women and had a potbelly?"

Joss scoffed. "I wish it was any of the above. He turned out to not be what I expected."

"He lied to you," Taylor surmised. Joss raised her eyebrow. "I'm the kid of a detective, okay? Plus, I figure it had to be pretty bad to put you in the dumps."

"I'm not in the 'dumps'," Joss retorted.

Taylor rolled his eyes. "Sure, Mom. You were so excited about going out and meeting this guy, that even I was hoping it would work out. But it didn't and now you're standing in the cold trying to figure out what went wrong. Or why you let yourself get deceived."

"Maybe I should stay home and watch basketball games while you catch criminals," Joss wrinkled her nose.

"Nah. So, how bad did he lie to you?"

"He wasn't what I thought he was going to be."

"Bummer."

"Yeah. Bummer," Joss agreed with a sigh.

"But overall, he's a pretty good guy, right?" Taylor asked.

"Maybe. I don't care."

"I think you _do_ care. Why else are you out here freezing your ass off?"

"Don't say 'ass', Taylor," Joss reprimanded.

Taylor's eyes sparkled with mischief. "_You_ said 'ass', Mom."

"It's different."

"Semantics."

"Don't you have homework to do?"

"It's Saturday."

"If you want to know, I know the guy, but he and I had a falling out. A couple of friends thought it might benefit us if we got together, so they set us up on a blind date. Only they forgot to tell me about it," she replied angrily. It still stung that her 'mutual friends' thought so low of her ability to find a good man on her own.

"Okay, so he's a pretty good guy, but he lied to you." Taylor sized up everything before concluding, "I guess this means you won't be forgiving him."

"He lied to me Taylor. I trusted him, and he lied to me. And not just once," she added quickly to make her point.

"And I know that in your book lying is a big thing. There is no coming back from that one."

"Is it wrong to expect the truth and trust from someone?" she asked. "That is the fundamental building block of every successful relationship."

"It is. I guess I can see why you can't forgive him."

Joss shook her head regretfully. "I can't. I can't risk my trust on another lie."

"Yeah." Taylor took a deep breath and let it out. "Remember when I was six and I took that comic book from the corner store? Remember how I hid it under my coat to keep you from seeing it, but when we got home, I whipped it out and started looking at it?" he asked.

"Yeah, I do."

"And you asked me where I got it, and I lied and said that it was mine." Taylor laughed. "I had never seen you so angry as you demanded I tell the truth. You told me that if I told you the truth, you wouldn't spank me..."

"And you still lied to me," Joss remembered.

"And then you marched me back to the store and returned it. I think you were more angry at me for lying than for stealing. And remember what you told me?"

Joss blinked quickly to hold back the tears that flooded her eyes. Her voice cracked as she replied, "I didn't think I could ever trust you again."

"But you did."

"It's different, T."

"Trust is trust, Mom. Should it be any different because I'm your son?" he wondered. "You liked a guy who lied to you. Maybe he had his reasons. Have you ever asked him why he lied? Or did you just jump to conclusions?"

"Not fair."

"It doesn't have to be fair to be logical. He is good for you, Mom. He made you smile again and want to go out and have a good time. How is that a bad thing?" Taylor covered Joss' hand with his own and gave it a squeeze. "You say you can't forgive him. I think it's you who can't forgive herself."

"Taylor..."

"You love him."

"No, I don't!" Joss denied vehemently.

"Sure. Why else are you torturing yourself over his betrayal? If you didn't love him, you would just turn around and walk away and chalk it up to a learning experience." Taylor's eyes shown with understanding. "You only hurt this much because you love him."

"I...I don't..." Joss protested weakly at the revelation. But if it wasn't true, why did her heart skip a beat at the possibility of Taylor being right?

"Go call him. Have coffee. Talk. Forgive him. What if something happens and you don't get the chance – like the fight I had with Micah and I swore to never forgive him. A week later he was dead from a roll over on an icy highway. Not a day goes by that I don't wish I could have a do over. Don't let this guy be your Micah."

Joss reached up and cupped her son's face. "How did you get so smart?"

"They say that every generation gets wiser than the last," he quipped.

"Smart ass."

"You said 'ass', Mom," Taylor teased.

"You're not too old for a time-out, mister."

Taylor leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Talk to him. Tell him that you love him."

"It's time for bed."

"I'm sleeping in, if it's okay."

"Sleep all you want. I'm going to stay out here for a little while longer."

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Taylor." Joss waited for the door to close before she replayed the conversation over in her mind.

_You love him. Forgive him. Don't let him be your Micah._

"Okay," Joss whispered on a shuddered breath. "I'm going to win him back."

_How?_

"I'm going to have to play it by ear, I guess. I just hope he's on line." In the pockets of her coat, she crossed her fingers for luck. Lord knew she was going to need a lot of it.


	13. Chapter 13

_It took a while to get the characters to talk to me. I guess Joss took some of the name calling personally. And it didn't help that Fusco was giving me the silent treatment, too. Although, they had NO problem chatting up a storm on the last two stories I posted. But I stopped arguing with them. Well, it looks as though Fusco is going to plant a seed of something in Reese's brain. Let's hope it takes root._

* * *

**Cupid**

Famished and tired, Lionel sat alone in the booth of the familiar corner diner and prepared to cut the steak on his plate. He already had his weekend interrupted twice, once by his partner, and to add insult to injury he had missed lunch due to the man he affectionately referred to as "the pain in his ass". To hell with both of them, he groused. He was going to fill his gut, then go back to Lee for the remainder of the day. He would make it up to his son. Somehow.

Popping a huge chunk of steak in his mouth, a movement caught his eye. A second later John Reese was standing before him. Setting down his silverware, he covered his heart with his hand.

"You scared the life out of me," he accused around the bite.

"Anyone ever tell you it's not nice to talk with your mouth full?"

"Funny guy. Maybe you shouldn't sneak up behind people while they're eating. Ever consider that?" Lionel returned.

"Thought I might be able to return the favour," Reese replied in monotone. "I got your message."

"Nice of you to show up."

Reese didn't bother to look around as he took his seat opposite the detective. "Nice change of scenery."

"I figured we couldn't conduct all of our meetings in a bar."

Reese eyed the huge plate of over-easy eggs, hash browned potatoes, and steak set before Lionel. "Looks like catching a bullet isn't the only thing you need to be looking out for," he observed.

Lionel picked up the silverware and begun cutting the steak again. "Eh, wise guy. Besides, my lunch was interrupted when I got a call to come down to the Emergency Room and pick up my present." Jabbing his fork in the piece of steak, he put it in his mouth and chewed. "By the way, thanks for the gift wrapped perp."

"Thought you might appreciate it."

Lionel swallowed and took another bite. "I've been after him for a while. He's got a rap sheet a mile long, but at least he's off the street."

"You're welcome."

"But did you have to shoot him in the kneecap?"

Reese shrugged. "Look at it this way, Lionel, if he beats the rap again, it won't be so difficult to catch him the next time."

"Funny guy. So, tell me: What is going on with your lady friend?"

"Don't you have more bad guys to catch?" Reese wondered.

"Nope. My Sunday with my son got interrupted by the Caped Crusader, and now I am eating lunch. And in return, you can answer a couple of my questions. What is going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"Eh. Usually you leave the perps for Carter. Not that I don't appreciate it – hell, I like being a hero – but it's got me curious. What's going on?"

"I wanted to do something nice for you."

Lionel shot him a crooked smile full of mirth. "Sure you did. What's up? You two aren't talking?" He fished for information to help decide how far he should journey into a potentially destructive situation – albeit one he created himself.

"Can we drop it, Lionel?" Reese shifted uncomfortably on the seat cushion.

"What about your lady friend?"

"Who?"

"The one who had you all tied up in knots the last time I saw you. The one who made you smile again. She still talkin' to you?"

"No."

Lionel tried to suppress the urge to not spill his guts and come clean to the man sitting opposite of him. But then he thought about Carter and how unreasonable she had acted, and he felt a little bit of anger spark. She hadn't listened to a word he had said. Maybe he could work some of his magic on Tall, Dark and Dangerous and salvage the whole plan.

He kept his face expressionless as he replied, "I'm sorry. What happened?"

"I think the wires got crossed. She didn't turn out to be who I imagined her to be."

Lionel couldn't think of anything reasonable to say. And looking at the broken-hearted man, he was pretty sure that announcing, "Hey! I'm the one who tried to set you up with Carter so you could get together and knock boots for a while," would only make the situation worse...and probably land him in traction. Or worse, dead.

"So, you met her?" Lionel wondered with feigned surprise.

"I did," Reese reluctantly admitted as though it was killing him.

"I take it, it didn't go well?" Lionel asked. Reese started to slide out of the booth. Lionel stopped him. "Hey, look. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend. I just wanted to know what happened. Was it the same woman?"

"No. No, she wasn't."

"So, you have _two_ women you've been seeing?" Lionel held up his hands at the glare shot his way. "I'm not judging; what ever floats your boat and makes you not kneecap people works for me."

"Yeah."

"I know you liked her – the woman who kicked you to the curb," Lionel corrected quickly.

Reese tried to meet Lionel's eyes, but failed. "Lionel..."

He had to change the subject quick. "Do you want her back?"

Reese remained silent.

"I take that as a yes...or maybe an 'I don't know'. Maybe you should move on."

"What do you mean?"

"Find someone else. I saw you smile the other day. I'm going to guess that the woman you've been pining over isn't the one who put that smile there."

"She's...different."

Lionel considered the description. "Different. That sounds good. She likes you?"

"I guess she does," Reese didn't elaborate.

"And you like her."

"Sure."

"So, talk to her."

"She's not talking to me," Reese admitted.

Lionel shook his head. "Two women not talking to you? That's got to be a record. Want some advice?"

"Is it going to piss me off?"

Sighing, Lionel set his knife in his lap. If he was going to make a suggestion to a ex-for hire killer, he didn't want any weapons readily available.

"John, I'm no therapist, and I don't know a whole helluva lot about love, but I know what it's like to want a second chance."

Reese's empty blue eyes met Lionel's. "What are you getting at, Lionel?"

"Ask for a second chance." Lionel reconsidered his remark. "Better yet, make the first move."

"Make the first move?" Reese echoed.

"You've been sitting around waiting for the women to come to you and answer their phone when you call. Well, take the bull by the horns, my friend, and go to them. _Make_ them answer."

"I'm not following you, Lionel." Was it possible that the portly detective was making sense enough to make his head spin?

Lionel gave a sarcastic snort. "Of course you aren't. That is why you are sitting in a booth in a diner, across from me when you could be talking to the woman who has stolen your heart. Call her. Or if you can't call her," he amended quickly, "find another way to get yourself on her radar."

Reese absorbed the advice. "Make the first move."

"I know that in your twisted mind you think the only time you need to make a first move is against the bad guys, but let me tell you something, pal, women don't view it as weakness; they love that stuff. It gives them a warm fuzzy."

Reese shot Lionel a look of disbelief.

"Don't look at me; it's a chick thing. They get a warm and fuzzy, you're forgiven and back in, and all is right with the universe." Lionel smiled.

"Really?" Reese wondered if it could be that easy.

Lionel cocked his head and grimaced. "Until the next time, of course."

"Thanks, Lionel." Reese slid across the vinyl seat and stood up. "You can finish your lunch."

Lionel pulled the knife from his lap. "Thanks. Go get her, John. You need her."

With a small smile, Reese turned on his heel and walked out of the diner.

"You definitely need her," Lionel said under his breath. Sighing, he cutoff a small corner of the steak and popped it in his mouth. "And she needs you too," he added quietly with a confident smile.


	14. Chapter 14

_Now that Fusco has decided to talk to me, I wonder if I can get him to shut up long enough to let me sleep! He's quite the chatterbox, but I love him. And now that he thinks he's back in the game where his mutual friends are concerned, he's just a little over the moon._

* * *

**Cupid**

"We're back in, Finch," Lionel crowed into his phone.

"Back in where?" Finch wondered with hesitation as he sat at his computer.

"Getting our two star-crossed lovers back together. I just spoke to John and he's still mad for Carter."

Finch hesitated. "I don't know, Detective. I think we should let this sleeping dog lie."

"Sleeping dog lie?!" Lionel nearly shouted into the phone. "We should be thanking God that one of them came to their senses. Now that it's happened, we're back in."

"I don't think it's going to be that easy. I severed the account," Finch confessed.

"You WHAT?! Why?" Lionel began pacing the small space of the bathroom stall. Just when he thought it was going to work out, he could only stand by and watch it fall apart all over again.

"Because Detective Carter demanded that I do it."

"Wait! What? You spoke to her?"

"In a matter of speaking. I came clean with her, and she requested that I sever the connection. I have to respect her wishes."

"You have to reconnect them."

"Impossible. That would go against my beliefs."

"Beliefs? Bullshit! This is a matter of life or death! Hell, it's more serious than that; it's a matter of the heart! You have to reconnect!"

"Detective..."

"John is expecting to speak with his mystery lady. What do you think is going to happen when he can't get on line?"

"Detective..."

"Are you going to tell him, Finch?" Lionel interrupted. "Are you willing to come clean and tell him about your involvement in all of this? You connected him to the woman of his dreams. Now you're going to extinguish it. How do you think he's going to react? Have you seen his gun collection?" Lionel added for effect.

"That's not fair, Detective," Finch protested weakly. But he swallowed hard at the thought of his best friend finding out about the betrayal.

"What's not fair is that Joss and John are finally coming to their senses and you want to chicken out."

"It's not that I don't appreciate all the hard work you've done, I believe this _love connection _you wanted to happen has run its course," Finch replied with just a bit of reprimand in his voice.

"Your hands are just as dirty as mine," Lionel shot back.

"Detective Carter doesn't feel anything for Mr. Reese. She said so herself," Finch confessed.

"Yes, she does! That is why we have to get them together!"

"You're incorrect."

"Look, Glasses, the woman came to my motel room, and she was armed, but she didn't shoot me. Wanna know why? Because I told her the truth. She knew it was the truth. She appreciates honesty."

"That doesn't mean she loves him," Finch argued.

"Maybe not in _your_ universe, but I could see it in her eyes. That is why we have to get their servers reconnected ASAP!"

Finch felt the conflict warring inside. The Detective had a good point, but he had seen with his own eyes the anguish of his mutual friends. If there was a way to avoid any more heartbreak, he was for it.

"Look, Finch, I can go up against Carter, but the Caped Crusader is another matter. Maybe you don't mind get capped in the ass when he finds out _our_ involvement, but I have no desire to get a matching bullet scar in my other ass cheek," Lionel said angrily.

"Okay, Detective," Finch relented with reluctance. "I will reconnect the servers."

Lionel breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"But if anything goes wrong..."

"It won't. I won't let it," Lionel promised and disconnected the call. Leaning his head against the cool metal stall divider, he closed his eyes. He wasn't a praying man, but he hoped that Joss had come to her senses.

Because if she didn't, he was a dead man.  
*****

Joss looked at the computer screen and clicked on the familiar icon that had become a part of her life in the past week. She had come to anticipate the "ding" to alert her of the messages that would make her day...or used to. She knew what she had told Finch about disconnecting the dating server, but a small part of her hoped that he had disobeyed her. So, she left the computer on all night and morning, but now it was nearly past noon, and nothing.

"You know what they say about a watched computer screen," she muttered under breath.

Still, there was a tiny part of her that was hoping to hear the familiar sound that would alert her that the man of her dreams was on line.

_But he hadn't been the man of your dreams; at least not in a realistic sense, _the little voice in her head reminded her.

No, she admitted sadly, he had been anything but a dream man. Or had he? It was obvious that he cared for her, and he protected her, plus he was always there when she needed him the most – and sometimes when she didn't need him – much to her aggravation. But he had risked his life for her, and he forgave her for getting him shot. And of course it didn't hurt that he was the epitome of 'tall, dark and handsome' – with blue eyes, no less! - but, still, he was far from perfect.

_So are you._

Yeah, that was her cross to bear. But she could live with it. She couldn't live with the knowledge that she may have ruined the best thing that had ever happened in her life – next to having Taylor, of course. For the first time in a long time, she was truly alone, and it was all of her making.

Sipping on the coffee, sitting at the desk playing 'Solitaire' on the computer, she clicked on a card on the stack and tried to move it over. When it didn't go, she tried until she realized that it was the wrong colour. Sighing, she clicked it back into the stack.

"Hell, I'm even losing at Solitaire," she muttered to herself. She looked at the total in her bank and noticed that it was negative 554 dollars. "Not losing," she groused, "I'm getting my ass kicked."

Giving up, she tried to focus on the coffee that had since grown cold. Even a silly computer game was going against her. It wasn't fair!

_Yes, it is,_ she told herself. But she was going to make up for what she did to her mutual friends – if it took everything she had to let them know that she was sorry. But first she had to reconnect with Conrad.

"No, it's John," she corrected.

_Does it matter?_

Closing her eyes, she bowed her head. No, she admitted to herself, it didn't matter who he was – Conrad or John – she still loved him. She sucked in her breath as the realization washed over her.

She loved him!

Biting her lip, she blinked to keep the tears back. She loved the Man In The Suit! And now because of her stupid pride and rigid, self-imposed rules, she probably lost him forever. Or maybe not. If she could only speak to him and find a way to ask for forgiveness, then she could try to win him back.

_If he'll have you._

She would move heaven and earth to make him realize that he needed her as much as she needed him, but first she had to talk with him. If only she hadn't jumped the gun and told Finch to shut down the connection. Could she call him and ask to have it re-installed? Would he do it?

Staring at the computer screen that hadn't changed, her heart sank at the thought that maybe it no longer mattered.

Taking the coffee mug in her hands, she figured she had stared at the computer long enough. She was going to take a shower and get a fresh cup of coffee, then she would try to lay out a strategy to win back the man she loved.

Standing up, she shuffled toward the door. As her hand touched the knob, she froze when she heard:

"DING!"


	15. Chapter 15

_Okay, so, Joss started talking, but then I got called into work – really long hours for two days in a row – and her voice got lost in the shuffle. And trying to make her talk again when she's giving the silent treatment is not easy. Not like Miss Cookie! I do apologize for keeping you all hanging at the "DING!" in the last chapter, but that was where it had to end. I hope this makes up for it. And for a few people who suggested what Reese should do to Joss...you may have gotten your wish. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Cupid**

_Maggie? Are you there?_

Joss hurried over to the computer. Her fingers were typing before she even had the chance to sit down.

I'm here.

_How are you?_

I'm fine. You?

_I missed talking to you. I was worried yesterday when you went offline. I thought maybe something had happened to you. _

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that to you. I was wrong.

_Was it something I did?_

No. No.

_Was it something I said?_

It wasn't you. It was me.

_Does this mean we're breaking up? ;)_

What do you mean?

_Usually, right before a break up, one person says to the other: It's not you; it's me._

No, I don't think we're 'breaking up'.

_I'm glad to hear that. So, what happened?_

What do you mean?

_Why did you rush off yesterday? _

I found out something - something I didn't want to know. About myself.

_Sounds like bad news. Is everything okay?_

No.

_Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong._

I screwed up.

_How badly?_

Royally.

_Wow._

How do you tell someone that you've hurt that you're sorry?

_It depends. How badly did you hurt this person?_

I don't think they will ever speak to me again.

_I don't believe it. You don't strike me as that kind of person._

You don't know me that well. I can be...harsh, when I think I've been wronged.

_Maybe you had a right to be harsh._

Yes and no. I want to tell the person I hurt that I'm sorry.

_Tell them._

It's not that easy. We're not speaking to one another.

_I'm going to take a wild guess: Is this the person who let you down?_

(pause)

It is.

_Maybe he deserved it._

Not saying that he didn't...actually, I mean, he did. But...

_But...?_

I could have been a little more understanding. Or kinder in my delivery.

_Did you catch him cheating on you?_

We weren't that 'together'.

_So, you two weren't dating?_

No.

_Sleeping together?_

Oh my god, no!

_Then what do you care if you hurt his feelings? He hurt yours._

* sigh *

_Did you just type out that you are sighing?_

Heh. Guilty. Childish?

_Different. I never knew anyone who typed out the word sigh._

It's how I feel.

_You're honest with your feelings – the way you ought to be._

I consider it the best policy. Or at least I used to.

_Used to?_

I think I may need to relax some of my most stringent rules that I live by.

_You mean compromise?_

Yes.

_As in changing yourself to be what someone else wants?_

No. I wouldn't go that far. I think I may need to change for me. Loosen up.

_How loose? Dancing on tables? _

Ha! I haven't done that since my college days.

_That would have been interesting to see._

Not gonna happen, pal. That was long before cell phones. No evidence to come back and bite me in the ass.

[pause]

_[Conrad is typing...]_

_Back to my earlier question: Why would you want to compromise for anyone?_

You got me. I think it would be easier if I just loosen up...a little.

_Loosen up for whom? Yourself? Him?_

No...not exactly. Maybe 'loosen up' is not the correct term. Perhaps 'lenient' is more appropriate.

_Explain, please._

I need to give people an opportunity to explain themselves and their actions before I jump all over them.

_Have they deserved it?_

Some; not all.

_I understand that. I have to be honest..._

Go ahead.

_The woman I told you about, the one who kicked me to the curb?_

What about her?

_I think I may take your suggestion and cut her loose._

What do you mean? I mean, why?

_The more I think about it, the more I get the feeling that she and I aren't meant to be together. I want something from her that she can't give, and she wants me to be something that I can't ever be._

Don't you think that's a little harsh?

_Are you changing your stance? I thought you wanted me to leave her?_

Well...yes. But maybe you should try talking to her one more time.

_Maggie, the woman hasn't taken my calls in two weeks. I doubt she's going to answer her phone because I give it one more try._

What could it hurt?

_You mean to call her?_

Yes.

_My pride. My stitches are still fresh from the other night, or did you forget? ;)_

I remember. So, it's over?

_Not If I could find another way of getting to her and make her listen to my side of the story, but I've played each scenario out, and this is the best way._

Do you think she'll notice that you've given up?

_I guess the better question would be: Do I think she'll care? _

[pause]

[Conrad is typing]

_I don't think she will._

I'm sorry.

_Don't be. At least I still have you to listen to me complain. I wish I had stayed to meet you._

Me too.

_At least now there are no barriers when we try again._

No. None.

_Would you like to try?_

To meet again?

_Yes._

Eventually.

_What does that mean? Eventually?_

I've got a few things I need to do.

_Now, should I be worried?_

No. I have a personal "thing" I need to attend to and tie loose ends.

_Ah, the ex._

I have to admit that it is, in a way, yes.

_You're honest; I like that._

If things work out the way I'm hoping, I'm very sure that we'll meet again. And this time, you won't miss me.

_That would be nice._

It would be, yes. Quick question: The woman – are you positive that there is no way the two of you can meet in the middle?

_I've tried everything, Maggie. I can't keep beating my head against the wall._

I understand.

_Work calls. I have to go. Will you be on later?_

If work doesn't call. :)

_I understand that. Take care._

Stay safe. Bye.

_Bye._

Joss clicked off the page and leaned back. Her worst fear had come true: John was cutting her loose. She buried her face in her hands and tried to take calming breaths. Good God, she had messed up – and this time there were consequences.

Joss raised her head. _No_, she thought to herself, _I'm not going down without a fight; not this time. _She had learned her lesson. She was going to win him back – come hell or high water.

And right now, she was facing both.


	16. Chapter 16

_Okay, so it's been a while since I updated. I would have had this up a week ago, but once my man Fusco heard the word "donuts", he dived into the box and refused to come out! From what I heard about "Donut Plant", I'm surprised Fusco didn't lapse into a carb coma! But eventually he made his way out and although his mouth is still full from donuts, he talking – and he got Joss to say those three little words. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Cupid**

Lionel opened the door to the sedan with a bit of apprehension. Maybe it was his detective's instinct or the fact that he was still burning over his confrontation with Joss Carter, but his feelers were up. But she had called him and said she was going to pick him up because they had to go out of town on a stake-out; he couldn't exactly say no.

"Good morning," he greeted without much warmth in his tone. Actually, there wasn't much warmth anywhere. Placing his fingers on the vents, he let the warm air start the thawing process.

"Morning, Lionel," Joss returned. Her fingers nervously picked at the lid of the large box sitting in her lap.

"Thanks for the ride." Lionel didn't really mean it, but he at least attempted to be cordial. After all, it was going to be a long day. Sniffing the air appreciatively he shifted his eyes left. "What is that?"

Joss extended the large box toward her partner. "A peace offering," she admitted.

"Heh." Lionel's nostrils were teased with the delicious aroma of freshly made donuts. His stomach rumbled. Loudly. "You think you can buy me off?" he wondered and unconsciously licked his lips.

"No," she admitted reluctantly. "But I hope it helps."

Lionel turned to face Joss. "You interrupted my weekend with my son to bite my head off, and you think that giving me donuts will make everything better?"

"It's not just _any_ donut," Joss corrected. "It's a Vanilla Bean donut."

Lionel's stomach rumbled louder. "You went to 'Donut Plant'?" His fingers danced on the lid. They itched to open the box and grab a delicious pastry and wolf it down. But there was something more relevant on his mind than filling his gut.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

"I need your help." Joss lowered her eyes. "I want John back."

"You _want_ him back, or you _need_ him back?" Lionel challenged. There were very few things he tolerated, and having his chain yanked wasn't one of them.

"Both."

"Heh. He kicked you to the curb, didn't he?" Lionel threw back at her. "He realized that there was more to life than pining over you and he decided to cut you loose. And suddenly you've realized that you need him more than he needs you and it scares the hell out of you."

"I-" Joss tried to refute her partner's statement, but since he pretty much hit the nail on the head, she had no choice but to nod in agreement.

"Have you forgiven him?" Lionel asked bluntly.

"It's not that easy..." Joss weakly protested. It might have been cold outside the car, but the interior was quickly heating up. Reaching up, she tugged the scarf off her neck.

"It _is_ that easy, Carter. You screwed up and he forgave you, then he screwed up, but you won't give him the same respect. It's not an 'either or' situation. It's an 'all or nothing'. You can't expect back what you won't give in return. Forgive him."

"And if I don't?" Joss wondered.

"I thank you for the donuts, eat them, then I tell you to go to hell," Lionel replied smartly.

Joss held her partner's gaze, but neither backed down. It was a true battle of wills. And only one could be the victor.

"You either really want him back or you want the prize. John is not a 'prize'," Lionel pointed out.

What was it that she had told John during one of their conversations? Yeah, she _was_ too stringent in her rules and maybe needed to relax. Maybe this was a baby step in the right direction. Letting out her breath, Joss felt a weird feeling of peace descend over her.

"I forgive him," she whispered.

Lionel's ears perked up. "Say again?"

"I forgive him," she repeated louder.

Lionel grinned. "See? Was that so hard?"

"No, it wasn't. But that doesn't help me solve the issue of trying to win him back," she argued.

"Why?" Lionel challenged. He had almost given up trying to make magic between his mutual friends, but to his surprise it seemed that there might be a light at the end of the tunnel – a faint light, but it was there.

"Why, what?"

"Why do you want him back? It can't be for pride or to soothe your hurt ego," he informed her in a no nonsense tone. "It has to be a lot more than being sorry for kicking him to the curb. Because if you're not all in, he's going to know. And Carter, I don't think I want to imagine what life is going to be like without him haunting ours."

Joss took a moment to get her self together before replying, "I love him."

It took a moment for the detective to recover from the revelation. Letting out his breath, he shifted in the seat. "Well, I wasn't prepared to hear that. But that changes everything. But rest assured, you do have one thing in your favour. Actually two things," he corrected.

"Which are?"

Lionel touched his chest before boasting, "First, you have me as your partner, and I believe the two of you belong together. And second, he is still head over heels for you. Why? I don't know, but the man is totally grape-nuts for you. Or rather, he's grape-nuts for your alter ego," he amended.

"Grape-nuts?" Joss interrupted.

Lionel made a face. "Yeah. Grape-nuts. But I don't know for how long. You hurt him badly."

"I know." And she did. More than Lionel or anyone could ever know.

"And he might not forgive you."

"I know that too." Worse than losing The Man In The Suit, she feared that he might never forgive her for not being able to see both sides of the picture.

"And you're still willing to go all the way and win him back?" Lionel was surprised yet happy at the prospect that Joss had come to her senses. He almost wanted to dance for joy in the middle of the street.

"What ever it takes."

Lionel chuckled. "That is music to my ears! What do you plan on doing to win him back? Because you can't exactly come out and say, 'Surprise!'. Because if you do, I'm dead." Lifting the lid on the box, he pulled out a donut and took a big bite. Moaning softly, he closed his eyes. "On second thought, let me finish these and then you can tell Wonderboy all about my plan." He took another bite. "Yeah," he sighed, "I could die a very happy man right now."

Joss rolled her eyes. "At least you have your priorities."

"I do," he agreed, the words barely audible as he finished the pastry. "I do." He licked his fingers. He could definitely die a very happy man – even at the hands of Tall, Dark and Dangerous. "What do you want to do, Carter?"

"Well, you started this whole mess, so you tell me," she volleyed back.

"Meet him for coffee."

"Coffee?" Joss repeated.

Lionel shrugged and reached for another donut. "Sure. Meet him for coffee and strike up a conversation with him. Go slow. On the other hand, you could meet him somewhere isolated and then jump his bones. I'm pretty sure he'll forgive you for anything after that."

"How do I get him there?" she asked.

"Have Finch make a reservation at a hotel for the Honeymoon Suite, and then have your way with him."

"I meant for coffee, Lionel," she interjected and flushed hot with embarrassment at the thought of being alone with John Reese in a hotel room.

"And here I thought you were finally seeing it from my point of view. Well, that alters my plan. Invite him out."

"Good theory on paper, but I can't exactly ask him as my alter ego; he won't fall for that again."

The donut stopped halfway to Lionel's mouth. "That's a good point. I didn't think about that."

"And he and I can't meet at Ost because that would be too obvious and give everything away."

Lionel shook his head. "Damn, Carter." He lowered the donut and shot her an exasperated look. "Why did you have to go and make this so complicated?" But the wheels in his brain were spinning. There had to be a way to get his mutual friends together.

He sighed. "I've got an idea. It might work. Or it might not," he warned. "But if you're game, and you really want John back, then you have to trust me."

Joss smiled. "I trust you. What do you have in mind?"

Lionel held the box up. "First, have a donut. Then let's stop and get coffee. We'll finish our stake-out, then I'll find a way of getting Wonderboy back." He nodded for Joss to take a donut. Once she did, he took one out for himself and held it up. "Deal?" He touched his donut to hers.

"Deal." The pair ate their treats in silence.

"Now let's go get coffee. Your treat, of course," he grinned broadly.

Joss started the engine and shifted it into gear. "You are going to make me pay for this, aren't you?"

"Only for a little while. Lucky for you, Valentine's Day is less than six days away."

"Yeah, lucky me," Joss breathed and pulled the sedan away from the curb.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Joss is taking the first baby steps forward and is about to formulate a plan of attack to win her man back – but don't expect any help from the guys. Nope, this time she's on her own.**_

* * *

**Cupid**

What would you do to make it up to someone who you hurt?

_Try saying you're sorry._

Sorry doesn't always work. Sometimes it makes it worse.

_Which is why I try never to say it unless I actually mean it._

So you never say you're sorry?

_No. I never say it unless I mean it. I learned a long time ago that it's an empty word._

That's not comforting.

_Not really. Think about it: Sorry I stepped on your toe. Sorry I stole your homework. Sorry I broke your heart._

When it put it that way...

_Words are empty. Actions mean everything._

So if I was expecting – say – you to ever apologize, it's more about what you would do for me than what you would say to me?

_Yes._

And – say – if I ever hurt you, you would want the same consideration in return.

_Sure. But I know you're not like that._

* laugh * You don't know me that well.

_I know you better than any woman who has been in my life._

Even your mother?

_My mother was a saint._

That didn't answer my question.

_Can't pull one over on you. She was a...paradox. Complicated, but easy going. She took my dad's death hard. But she was determined to keep her family together._

Did she remarry?

_Yes._

Was he good to you?

_For a step-father. He didn't hate me. I just never could live up to what he expected and my dad's legacy._

That sounds like an impossible goal for a child to achieve.

_I learned not to let people in. _

Isolation of oneself is not healthy.

_Considering my track record, the women who have passed through my life haven't exactly nurtured the opposite. Except for her._

The woman who broke down your barrier but treated you like crap.

_She's not a bad person. She has trust issues, but she's had things happen to her. I can't judge her._

But you don't like her anymore.

_Mmmm...I wouldn't go that far. I like her. She doesn't like me. I can't be around someone who doesn't trust me._

So, you don't want to see her again?

_It might be too soon. I need to lick my wounds for a while. _

I understand.

_I think we should meet._

Meet?

_Give it another try. Maybe somewhere a little more...intimate._

Oh, you're a romantic at heart. I didn't see that coming.

_I'm full of surprises._

Funny that you should say that. I am too.

_Maybe this is destiny._

I guess we'll have to see. What are your plans for tonight?

_Nothing much. Thought I might get a little take-out and then catch the game later with a co-worker._

Game?

_Basketball._

Oh.

_You're not a fan?_

You're going to hate me when I say this, but I find basketball extremely boring. The running up, the running down...the dunking of the ball. The last minute and a half that can be stretched out to half an hour.

_Oh._

I guess you found something about me that you don't like.

_It's no big deal. Most women don't care for basketball. It won't be a deal breaker for us._

That's good to know.

_What do you have planned?_

A long hot bath – with bubbles! And a good book. Then early to bed.

_How are you holding yourself back with all that excitement going on? Thought you might be taking in a club or a show._

It's difficult. It was a long day at work with a co-worker, and we just...we haven't been getting along. And I'm a little stressed out.

_Ah. The co-worker from hell. I had a couple of those. _

I think we all do.

_How did you deal with him? Ignore him?_

He's impossible to ignore.

_Oh. Could you request someone new?_

We work in the same department. And we have a vested interest in the outcome of a recent project.

_My heart goes out to you. Maybe one of you will get a promotion and you can leave him behind._

It has crossed my mind more than a few times. But he's...he's grown on me. Like a fungus, I suppose.

_I feel the same about my co-worker and even gave him the same endearment._

Maybe we have more in common than I thought.

_Except for basketball._

Ah, well. Oh. I just looked at the time. You should be going. Have fun watching the game.

_Want me to relay the highlights? :)_

No. That's okay. Have fun with your co-worker.

_Goodnight Maggie._

Goodnight Conrad.

Joss sat for a moment and stared at the blank screen. The first step of her plan had just been laid. The next step was to find out where John was heading, then she would swoop in and put her next plan into action.

Hitting the saved number on her phone, she waited for person to pick up the other end.

"Hello, Detective," Finch greeted. "I suppose you are calling to find out where Mr. Reese is planning on 'hanging out'?"

"Yes."

"You realize this goes against my better judgment, don't you?" Finch's tone was just short of being cold and distant as he delivered his words.

Joss' heart squeezed painfully with regret. "I'm going to make it up to him, Finch. I promise."

"I'm not sure, Detective."

"Fusco supports me," she argued.

Finch's voice held disdain as he replied, "I will refrain expressing what I feel about Detective Fusco."

"Just give me the address," Joss implored.

Finch paused. He was tempted to believe the woman who had his best friend under a spell. But so far, everything she had done was detrimental to John's well being. No, he reasoned, if Joss wanted John, she was going to have to do the hard work herself.

"I'm sorry, Detective, but I can't. Good night." 'Finch disconnected the line.

"Finch, don't hang up! I know you can still hear me!" Joss spoke loudly into the receiver. "Finch!"

Sighing, Joss realized that her attempts to get Finch back were futile. Hitting "END", she set the phone on the desk and leaned back in her chair. She was going to have to work this case on her own. But where to begin? Where to start?

"Okay, Finch. You won this round, but I'm going to find John – with or without your help," she stated with firm determination.

Standing up, she hurried to the closet and began removing hangers. She was going to find something conservative yet sexy enough to make John realize that there was more than a basketball game playing. He would have to talk to her – hell, he admitted that he still liked her. That was a plus in her favour.

Yanking a blouse and jeans off their hangers, she donned them, then quickly pulled on her boots.

Hurrying down the stairs, she shouted to Taylor that she was going out and would be home later. She didn't wait for his reply while pulling on her heavy cashmere coat and wrapping a scarf around her neck. Running her fingers thru her hair, she gave herself a once over in the mirror. She was going to win him back so fast John was never going to know what hit him.

Grabbing her purse, she shoved her service weapon and spare phone inside. Yep, she was ready, she decided before closing the door behind her.


	18. Chapter 18

_The road of true love has been paved with speed bumps, pot holes, and curvy lanes. In a nutshell: "One step forward, two steps back."_

_P.s. The stats on Bernard King are authentic. And it was fun to research the basketball greats._

* * *

**Cupid**

"It was nice of you to invite me to watch the game," Lionel said as he grabbed a handful of peanuts out of the dish and popped them into his mouth. His stomach rumbled at the thought of the wings arriving.

"I felt sorry for you," Reese replied without apology.

"Heh. I think you're feeling sorry for yourself," Lionel said around the peanuts he was chewing. He glanced at the large beer stein sitting in front of his friend. "You can't enjoy the game if you're wasted," he observed.

Reese gave a sarcastic snort. "You think _this_ will get me drunk?"

"Is that what you are shooting for?" Lionel wondered. "Why else would you be drinking and not eating?"

"Why are you eating and not drinking?" Reese volleyed back.

"Touche." Lionel reached for another handful of peanuts. "The wings will be here in a minute; I can't wait to see you get your suit messy."

"Not likely." Reese picked up the stein and sipped.

"So," Lionel began, "why are you with me and not her?"

"Her who?"

"Her who?!" Lionel's eyes widened. "Uh, the woman you're nuts over. Why did you ask me and not her?"

"I did. She declined. She doesn't like basketball."

Lionel's eyebrows shot up. "Doesn't like basketball? Is she nuts?"

"Lionel..."

"I thought she was the perfect woman?"

"Lionel..."

"Look, Superman, I know that you are grieving over that crazy woman kicking you to the curb, but are you sure you aren't replacing her with more of the same?"

"What do you mean?"

"She should like the things you like: Fire arms, beer and wings, and basketball." Lionel sipped his Sprite with a twist before continuing, "I just want you to make sure you're not trading in one crazy woman for another."

"I'm not."

"Are you sure? You _have_ taken a lot of blows to the head, Boy Wonder, and maybe you're not thinking too clearly on this." Out of the corner of his eye, Fusco watched the game with feigned interest. His real interest was on the man sitting across from him.

Reese shot the man a glare that left no room for argument. "Are you going to watch the game, Lionel, or are you going to talk my ear off?"

"Dang, you're moody," the detective muttered under his breath. Reaching behind his back, Lionel pulled out his wallet. "I just got Lee's new school pictures. Want to see?" He opened the wallet but stopped as a movement near the front door caught his eye. "Oh, shit." Immediately he tried to block his face.

The action was not lost on Reese. "What's wrong? Your ex-wife show up?" Reese quipped.

"Worse," Lionel whispered loudly. "Carter just walked in." Reese strained his neck to look toward the door for the woman. "Don't look! I gotta get out of here!"

"Maybe she didn't see you."

"The hell she didn't." Lionel grabbed his windbreaker and pulled it on. "I am not gonna risk her seeing us together. You're on your own. Bye."

Reese was amazed and impressed by the rotund detective's quick step agility. The smile was still on his face as Joss walked up.

"What's so funny?" she asked casually.

The smile was quickly replaced by the trademark stoic look cultivated by the CIA.

"Hello, Carter."

The transformation wasn't lost on Joss. Shifting her eyes, she looked down at the table. "Are you with someone?"

"Yes. No," Reese amended quickly.

"Ah. Well, mind if I sit down?" Without waiting for his reply, Joss pulled the chair out and sat down. She spied the wallet. "What's this?"

Before Joss could open it, Reese grabbed the wallet and shoved it into his jacket pocket. "It's nothing. I'll return it to them." A cheer went up as the home team scored. "What are you doing here, Carter?"

"Enjoying the game."

"You like basketball?"

"I love basketball. My dad took me to go see the Knicks when I was twelve and I got to meet Bernard King," Joss recalled. "I was there for the game when he scored 20 for 23 against the Spurs." She picked up the beer stein and took a long drink.

"No telling how far he would have gotten if he hadn't torn his ACL in the third season," she gave a mournful sigh.

"Yeah, he was good," Reese agreed. Another cheer went up, but the silence fell between the pair. Even after the server brought the plate of Buffalo wings, neither spoke.

"Why are you here?" he finally inquired.

Joss relied on her years of military training to help maintain her composure. It wasn't going to win her any points if her hands became nervous. So she grabbed a wing. She took a bite. Chewing slowly, she built her courage.

"I wanted to see the game. And I saw a friend sitting alone."

"We're not 'friends', Carter. Not anymore. You made that clear." Reese shifted in his chair. There was no mistaking his body language; he was uncomfortable.

"That's my fault."

"Thanks."

Joss was bewildered by the acknowledgment. "For what?"

"Not placing the blame on me. And for the record, I didn't bug your phone, and I didn't follow you here," Reese threw her accusation back. He almost felt sorry for her when she winced.

"I know that." Joss set the wing down on the plate and wiped her hands. "I was wrong to accuse you of following me. I'm sorry."

"I'm glad we got that cleared up." Reese pushed back his chair and started to stand up. "Good night, Carter."

Joss reached out and grabbed his hand. "No. Don't go. Stay."

"I can't."

Joss looked up at him, her brown eyes pleading. "Please?"

The debate inside Reese lasted a full second before he sat back down. Clasping his hands together, he laid his arms on the table.

"I'll stay. So, what do you want to talk about?" he asked bluntly.

Unsure where to begin, she thought she'd test the waters with the safest question she could. "How have you been?"

"Fine. You?" he returned cordially.

"Good. I've been good."

"How's that guy – the one you were going to meet the other night?" he inquired politely.

"He's...um...he didn't show," Joss confessed. Honesty should be the best policy, she argued to herself, but not at this moment.

There was barely a trace of compassion in Reese's tone as he replied, "Really. Why?"

"Well... He said that he was there, but I guess we missed one another."

"That's his story."

"I believe him."

"Or maybe it was something else."

"What?"

"He was there, but after he saw the way you treated me, he left." Reese's eyes dared Joss to contradict him. He watched as her eyes briefly flashed with pain, but he had to admire the way she didn't back down.

"Yeah," she admitted. "Yeah, maybe he did. I was wrong, John. I was angry and frightened and I took it out on you. I'm sorry."

"And that makes it better?" he shot back. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

"Believe me. Trust me."

"Believe you? Trust you?" he repeated in surprise. "You've wanted nothing to do with me for two weeks, Carter. You've refused to take my phone calls, you've refused to talk to me, and the one time we meet accidentally, you accused me of stalking you with no other purpose than to ruin your night. Tonight you show up and crash my evening with a friend and tell me you're sorry for jumping the gun."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them, and in the distance the patrons cheered as the teams on the TV scored.

"Excuse me if I'm not jumping for joy at your apology, Carter," Reese continued tonelessly. I'm not sure what your goal was and what you intended to accomplish by coming here tonight. You think that what I did to protect Leila was wrong and that I'm completely at fault for getting Szymanski shot. I accept that blame. You think that I should have contacted you and let you do your job to protect the baby. Maybe you're right, but would I go back and change anything if I could do it over again? No. No, I wouldn't. No more than you would change anything that you did that night."

Reese took a deep breath then slowly let it out.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I would like to watch the game in peace."

Joss opened her mouth and tried to refute everything Reese just said. But her mind was blank – partly from shock and partly from hurt. Then it dawned on her that there was nothing she could say in her own defense. John Reese had officially decimated her defense strategy by going on the offense before she knew what was happening. He had beaten her at her own game.

Wiping her hands on the wet towelette, she pasted a smile on her face and stood up.

"You're right, John. I crashed your party because I thought we could find what we had before. I'm sorry that you feel the way you do about me. That's my fault." Her smile faltered and it was taking everything she had to keep the tears from flowing freely.

Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a handful of dollar bills and put them on the table. "Here."

Instantly full of regret, John shook his head. "Joss..."

Joss held up her hand to stop him. "No, John. Let me pay for ruining your evening; it's the least I can do. Tell your friend I'm sorry."

Turning on her heel, she walked quickly across the floor to the door and out to the street. Faster than she thought possible, and blinded by tears, she hurried down the sidewalk to the familiar steps of her brownstone. Climbing the stairs to the top, she sat down. Unable to hold back, she lowered her head on her knees and wept.


	19. Chapter 19

_So, last night while I was at work, I got to thinking about how I was going to prove to Reese that he's been forgiven by Joss and how they could begin their healing. I didn't want a total "life or death" situation – too cliché! - and, after all, this is a romantic story. But there had to be a way! Then it hit me! Since Nolan has bastardized his show, why couldn't I? Nothing serious, but why not twist an ep and make it work for this story? So I'm taking from "Matsya Nyaya" and working it to my characters' advantage. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Cupid**

Reese tossed and turned in his bed and tried to find a comfortable spot, but it was impossible. No matter which position he tried, and no matter how many times he attempted to count sheep, sleep was eluding him.

Running his hand over the mattress, he searched for lumps, but came up empty. No, he finally admitted to himself, it wasn't the mattress keeping him awake; it was his conscience. And no matter how he tried, he couldn't erase the Joss' shattered look as he ordered her away.

Sitting up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. God, he needed a drink. No, he needed _drinks_. Period. And to get so drunk that he could forget the past month of his miserable life.

Shuffling across the wood floor, he made his way to the kitchen. Pulling open the fridge door, he stared for a long while before settling on a bottle of Coke. Snapping the lid off, he took a long swig and headed back to the main room.

As he walked back toward the bedroom, he stopped by the computer. Maybe Maggie was awake, he thought before sitting down and turning on the monitor. Maybe she could give him some advice. But when he looked at the corner clock, he noticed the time was 2am. There was no way she would be up at this hour, but he had to try.

Logging on, he quickly typed: _Maggie, are you there? _Then he sat back and waited for the response he knew wasn't coming.

* DING *

I'm here. What's wrong?

_Were you asleep? I didn't mean to bother you._

No bother. What's wrong?

_I did something tonight that I'm not proud of._

What? What did you do?

_I hurt someone._

You **hurt** someone? I don't understand. Do you mean physically?

_Yes. No. Both._

Explain, please.

_The woman – the one I told you about..._

The one who kicked you to the curb?

_Yes. I ran into her tonight._

What happened?

_I told her how I felt about her and what she did to me. I finally got it off my chest. I thought if I finally told her how I feel, I could move on. Instead, I feel worse._

Maybe she deserved it.

_No, Maggie. No, she didn't. Not like that. No matter what happened between us, I had no right to break her heart that way._

How do you know that you broke her heart? Did she say that? Did she yell at you?

_No. I wish she had. At least it would have made it easier to walk away. But it's not that. It's what happened afterward._

_[pause]_

_[Conrad is typing...]_

_I followed her._

You followed her? Where?

_Back to her place._

Why? What were you going to tell her?

_I don't know. I was conflicted. I was angry that she showed up at the pub and crashed my evening, but I was also happy that she wanted to see me. Yes, I was angry about how our friendship – if you can call it that – went to hell, but I shouldn't have taken it out on her the way I did. But to see her just sit there and take it..._

_Maybe I was going to tell her that I was sorry. Maybe I was going to ask her for a second chance...I don't know. All I know is that I never felt lower than I did when she sat down in front of her house and started crying._

You saw her crying?

_I did. I hurt her._

Maybe she deserved it.

_Not like that. No one deserves to be hurt that way. _

What did you do?

_Nothing. I just stood there. __I don't know what to do. This whole...misunderstanding has led to her and I_ _hurting each other. Sure, okay, we weren't what you could call friends – well, I thought we were; she may have thought I was just a pain in her ass._

I doubt she thinks that...or thought that.

_If she didn't before, I have no doubt that she does now. _

I'm sure she understands more than you give her credit for.

_No. Jessica didn't._

Jessica? The woman who kicked you to the curb?

_No. The woman who died._

The one you feel you let down and drove into another man's arms?

_The same._

It's not the same with this woman. Maybe she genuinely cares about you, but she's scared to express her feelings because she's afraid of getting hurt too. People go on the defense for things that don't make much sense at first, but there's a reason.

Tell her you're sorry.

_Remember what I said about saying 'I'm sorry'?_

If you really mean it...

_How do I know she's forgiven me?_

What do you mean?

_I say that I'm sorry, and she accepts it, but how do I know that she's forgiven me for what I did?_

You mean what happened tonight?

_No. Not tonight. What happened to cause us to break apart._

You think she hasn't forgiven you?

_She has every right not to. I mean, I did cause her partner to be shot._

Shot?!

_Long story. Someday I'll tell you all about it. If you still like me after this chat._

I'll always like you, Conrad. I'm not going away.

_That's comforting. At least there is someone out there who still likes me._

At least it's the one who matters. :)

_Thank you, Maggie. Thank you for taking the time out of your night to talk to me_.

It's no problem. Honestly.

_I don't think I can ever make it up to you._

You have. In more ways than one.

_I have? What do you mean?_

Uh...that you've listened to me and given me advice. You've been there when I needed someone to talk to. You've been my sounding board.

_That is why we are good for each other._

We are.

_Look at the time. I should let you go back to bed. It's getting late and we both have to be up for work._

I'm not really tired. I could chat all night.

_I know. I feel the same. But we still need to sleep. :)_

We do.

_I hope I can make it up to you someday._

Me too. Good night, Conrad.

_Goodnight, Maggie._

Reese leaned over and turned off the computer. He sighed. He looked at his watch. 3am. He needed to be up early to make it to the new job and help save the number. So, being an armoured truck guard wasn't exactly rocket science, he still needed to keep his feelers up and not be distracted by what was going on in his life. It wouldn't do him any good if he got himself shot before he could finally meet Maggie and put a face with a chat.

Standing up, he finished the Coke and threw the can in the trash can next to the desk. He stretched and felt his joints snap, crackle, and pop in protest. Yeah, he needed to get to sleep. And then maybe, with any luck, he could finally figure out what to do about Carter and Maggie.

There had to be a way to make it up to both of the women.


	20. Chapter 20

_Here is a quick update. I'm not going to reveal anything to ruin it, but I hope you enjoy._

_This chapter is dedicated to the anonymous reviewer who thinks that I have written CaReese OOC, but in time I will develop my skill/talent and become a strong writer. Thank you._

* * *

**Cupid**

Joss sat her desk and tried to review the files stacked before her. It had been a long night with little sleep, but she wasn't tired. No, she was more worried about John and what kind of trouble he was getting into. There was no doubt in her mind that what ever trouble he and Finch had found to immerse themselves in, it was going to blow up and she would be in the middle of it. It was just a matter of time.

But as she looked at her watch for the umpteenth time, she came to the realization that maybe they had this one under control. Picking up the file on the cold case homicide, she sighed. Her one chance to see John since their disastrous meeting last night was quickly passing by. And with each second, her heart beat picked up speed.

Joss cast a quick glance at Fusco's empty desk. They were supposed to have lunch together – until he was called to a meeting with Captain Lynch. She knew the man well, and there was nothing about him that she liked. His reputation of being a bottom-dwelling, scumbag was true. And just hearing his name was enough to make her skin crawl.

"Great," Joss muttered to herself and tossed the folder on to the stack. "I'm stuck here." she took a sip of her coffee. "And my coffee is cold." The set the cup aside and gave it a disgusted look.

Suddenly her burner phone rang.

"John?" she asked. Her voice was low so it wouldn't carry.

"Sorry, Detective," Finch apologized.

Immediately her feelers went up. "Finch! What's wrong?" It wasn't like the man to randomly call her any more. She knew something bad had happened and it involved the man she loved. Her heart raced with fear at the possibility that John could be hurt or worse – dead.

"It's Mr. Reese. I can't get hold of him, Detective," Finch hurried on in a rush.

"What happened?" Joss stood up and grabbed her badge, service weapon, and car keys.

"There was an explosion in or on the armored truck he was riding in. I've tried to get in touch with him, but he isn't answering. I heard gunshots, Detective," Finch tried not to plead, but he was worried for the health and welfare of his best friend. "I can't get in contact with Detective Fusco..."

"_Report of gunshots. Repeat. Report of gunshots. Patrol cars in vicinity, please respond to..."_

"I'm on my way, Finch. I'll take care of him," Joss promised before closing the phone. Faster than she thought possible, she flew out of the precinct.  
*****

"Thank you for meeting me, Carter," Reese said as the detective sat down at the table in the quaint but tastefully decorated restaurant.

"You asked me to come; how could I say no?" Joss replied with a small smile. She looked around at the surroundings. "This is a little...um...different than our normal meeting places. Don't you think it's a little...I don't know," Joss faltered as the words escaped her. She looked down at the table.

"Risky?" Reese supplied. His gaze stayed on the woman sitting across from him. Slowly he drank in her beauty and felt his heart squeeze.

"A little," she admitted and picked up the menu. Glancing over the options, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. She set the menu down. "What?" she asked.

"Hmmm?"

"You're staring at me," she accused.

"I am." He couldn't lie to her.

"Why?"

Reese shrugged slightly. "Because I like looking at you." _Because I've missed looking at you these past two weeks and it's broken my heart nearly every second that I can't see you,_ he finished silently.

Joss ducked her head and gave a small smile. "Thanks."

Before either could speak, the waitress appeared to take their order. After she finished writing on her pad, she took the menus and departed to leave the couple in an uncomfortable silence.

"I want to -" Reese began.

"I want to -" Joss started. "Sorry."

"What were you going to say?"

"No. You first," she invited.

"I wanted to thank you for coming to the hospital and helping me."

"You're welcome, John. It was the least I could do. You're alive and the bad guy – and bad girl didn't get away with murder. Who would have thought that Lynch was their inside guy?" Joss shook her head. "And to take him out in the process..." She tried to make sense of the events, but couldn't, so she gave up and tried to concentrate on something else.

"Lynch got exactly what he deserved," Reese remarked without elaborating. He had no love for the corrupt Captain who had given the order to have Joss assassinated. If he had one regret, it was that he hadn't thrown the son of a bitch off the roof that night. In his mind the killing of Lynch was good riddance to rubbish.

"After last night, I thought... I would've understood if you had left me there," Reese continued.

"I wouldn't have done that. And last night was..." No, she didn't want to think about how empty she had felt as she left the pub. And she didn't want to think about how she cried her soul dry after being rejected.

"I was wrong. The things I said – the way I made you feel – that was wrong of me, Joss. I had no right to hurt you."

"John..." Joss protested weakly. Her feelings were still raw, and an apology was the last thing she expected.

"Hear me out, Joss. Please," Reese tried not to plead, but it was hard enough for him to put his thoughts into words without the fear of being rebuffed. When her eyes met his, he felt a feeling of peace come over him.

"Okay."

"You and I had a misunderstanding," he explained. "Actually, it was a miscommunication of major proportions. We were both wrong, Joss. And there is no reason we need to hold on to it, nor do we need to take on more guilt than we already have. We both made mistakes while trying to do something right."

"John..."

"But that did not entitle me hurt you to the point of making you cry."

Joss' eyes widened. "How did you know?"

"I followed you," he confessed. "I shouldn't have, but I had to make sure that you made it home safely."

A tiny thrill of pleasure ran thru her at the thought that he might still care for her. "You-you...followed me?"

"I wasn't stalking you, Joss, I swear," he added quickly to clear up any misunderstanding she might have about his actions.

"I know you weren't," she assured him.

"So, you're not angry?" Deep down inside he was holding his breath as he waited for her reply.

"No. I'm glad that you did."

"You are?" Now he was the surprised one.

"It's nice to know that you still care." Tentatively, she reached out and touched Reese's hand. When he didn't pull away, she covered it with her own.

"Thank you for understanding, Joss."

"Thanks for still caring." She smiled at him. He smiled back. "And I forgive you for what happened with Szymanski."

"Thank you."

Their meal arrived and effectively cut off any further conversation.  
****

"Thank you for walking me home, but it wasn't necessary," Joss said as she and Reese stopped at the stairs of her brownstone.

"I wanted to."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'd ask you in for a cup of coffee, but..." They had saved their relationship and discovered something new about the other, but they still needed to take baby steps.

"It's okay."

"Besides, after the last couple of days you've had, I'm sure you want to go home and sleep," she observed.

"I could stay and talk to you all night, Joss." Reese looked deep into Joss' eyes and fought the urge to reach up and brush the strand of hair from her cheek. At that moment his earwig beeped. He touched it to turn it on and spoke, "Yes?"

"I'm sorry for interrupting, but I need to see you."

"I'm on my way." He touched the earwig to turn it off. Joss sighed.

"Finch? I guess you'd better go."

"I'll take you up on that coffee invite later – if that's okay with you?"

"It's more than okay with me. You should go."

"I will once you get inside and lock your door."

"Watching over me?"

"Always, Joss."

"Thank you." Joss hurried up the stairs to the front door. Inserting her key, she turned around to look at the man in the suit. Half expecting him to have already disappeared in the shadows, she was pleasantly surprised to find him still standing where she left him. She chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"You wouldn't understand." She unlocked the door and turned the knob. "Goodnight, John."

"Goodnight, Joss."

Joss stepped inside the foyer and closed the door behind her. Disarming the alarm, she waited the thirty seconds before setting it again. The house was quiet and dark, but she didn't bother to turn on a light.

Moving over to the window near the door, she pushed the curtain aside and looked out the window at the street. Her heart jumped to find Reese outside. Their eyes met. Joss gave a little wave. Reese nodded in response.

Feeling the weird butterflies in her stomach, Joss let the curtain fall back into place, then she walked upstairs.


	21. Chapter 21

_Sorry it's taken so long for the update – been working long hours and unexpected shifts. But that doesn't mean the gerbil on the wheel hasn't been going into overtime! Well, it's getting close to Valentine's Day, and poor Lionel has gone from cupid to go-between as the two star-crossed lovers try to make the first move._

* * *

**Cupid**

Lionel pulled open the door to the diner and looked around to make sure no one of any importance was hanging around. Once the coast was clear, he made his way to the booth located in the far end of the room.

"Good morning, Lionel," Reese greeted.

"Good morning my ass," Lionel replied and sat on the seat. "You're chipper. You shoot some bad guys in the kneecaps before breakfast?"

"No, but thanks."

"How is it that you get the crap beat out of you, and you still look great?"

Reese only shrugged in response.

"Ah. Well. But at least I got to bring down Lynch - thanks to you and our mutual friend, of course." Lionel added on as an afterthought.

"That's good."

"Except now Simmons is breathing down my neck."

"That's not so good."

"Tell me about it." Lionel yawned and checked his watch. "So, what was so all fired important that you had to call me at the butt crack of dawn to meet you here?"

"What's wrong, Lionel? Missing out on your beauty sleep?"

"Heh. Well, we all can't be tall, dark, and gorgeous like you, Wonder Boy. You could have at least ordered me a cup of coffee," he groused.

"I could have," Reese agreed without further elaboration.

"But you didn't. So, what was it? What do you need?"

"I need you to find out what kind of flower Carter likes."

"What kind of -?" Slowly the realization dawned on the detective. "Wait! You want me to find out what kind of flower Carter likes?! Why?"

"Does it matter?"

"It does," Lionel nodded, "when it might get me shot."

"What's a bullet here or there?"

"Maybe you like to wear your bullet wounds like medals, but I personally don't like getting shot." Lionel leaned in. "Tell me, what do you need it for? You gonna try and soften her up?"

"Just get me the information."

"You look different."

"Lionel..."

"You do. And is that a smile?"

"Lionel..." Reese warned cautiously.

"It is a smile! You're smiling! You like her!" A stupid grin broke across Lionel's face as the realization hit him. It was all he could do to tap down his enthusiasm.

"I'm about to take back thanking you for saving me last night," Reese warned, but his tone held no real warning.

"Okay. No need to get hostile," Lionel ribbed back. "It's just that I can't ever recall seeing you smile. It suits you; you should really consider doing it more often."

"I smile."

Lionel considered the remark. "No. Smiling after kneecapping a perp isn't the same. This is...real."

"Are you going to get me the information?" Reese asked with just a little bit of exasperation.

"It's going to cost you."

"I brought you a bad guy – three times this week," Reese pointed out matter-of-factly.

"Nah. I want something more."

"What?"

"I'll let you know."

"I'm sure you will. You have my number." Reese stood up and straightened his jacket.

Lionel looked up, surprised. "What? You're not staying for breakfast?" he wondered.

"Are you buying?"

Lionel appeared insulted. "Buying? You asked me here."

"Ah, well, then, no. Got bad guys to catch." In the blink of an eye, Reese disappeared to leave Lionel by himself.

"Thanks, pal," Lionel muttered under his breath and reached for a menu. The revelation that John Reese could be interested in Joss Carter was more than even the detective could have wished for. Yes, he told himself, it was finally coming together. Now he just had to figure out a way to get the information without spiking his partner's curiosity. But how? In response, his stomach growled loudly.

Embarrassed, Lionel looked around and felt a few eyes staring at him.

"The flowers can wait," he said and motioned for the waitress.  
*******

"Thanks for the coffee," Joss said as she took the lid off the cup. Sitting in the car, she pressed her nearly frozen fingers against the cup and tried to absorb some of the heat to help thaw them.

"No problem. I figured you could use a change from the mud back at the house." Lionel expertly guided the car into traffic – keeping one eye in the mirror and the other on the road. It was another day of trying to gather information and interviewing witnesses as they tried to close a cold case involving the shooting of a young teen in Washington Heights.

"Anything is better than that stuff," Joss agreed. Sipping carefully, she savoured the delicious blend of roasted beans that had been brewed slowly.

Without music, the silence in the car was almost deafening. Shifting in the seat, Lionel took a deep breath before asking, "So, what are you doing for Valentine's Day?"

Joss raised her eyebrow. "Why?"

"Just wondering. It's only three days away," he pointed out.

"You're wondering what I'm doing for Valentine's Day? Heh." Joss focused her attention on the cup of coffee.

"I have a curious mind."

"Be curious somewhere else," she replied between sips.

"Aw, come on, Carter," Lionel pleaded, "humour me."

"No."

"Are you going out to dinner? Staying home?"

"If we can't catch this bad guy, we'll be on another stake-out, so it doesn't really matter."

"Killjoy. No, really. You have plans, right?"

"A book. A movie. Bed."

"I should check you for a pulse," Lionel quipped.

"What do you mean?" Joss asked.

"Dead people have more exciting things going on in their lives." Lionel carefully merged into the lane that would take them to Washington Heights.

"That's me. Detective Excitement," Joss replied tongue in cheek.

"Well, is Taylor doing anything?" Lionel dug for any information that could help him formulate a plan he could take back to Finch.

"He has a dance," Joss tried to keep the loneliness out of her voice, but Lionel heard it. Looking at her out of the corner of his eye, he almost felt sorry for her.

"So, you're going to sit home alone? That's no fun." Lionel braced himself and built his courage. "Why don't you call our mutual friend?"

Joss was shocked by the suggestion. "John?"

"No. Glasses," Lionel corrected sarcastically. "Of course I mean John. Ask him out."

"It's not that easy."

"Why not? He's free...you're free..." Lionel tossed the suggestion out. "So, what kind of flower do you like?"

Joss shifted her eyes. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because we're partners. We should know these things about each other."

"Uh huh. He asked you, didn't he?"

"He did," Lionel confirmed reluctantly.

"Why?"

"I guess he wants to send you flowers. I don't know."

"Send me...?"

"Yeah, flowers. So, what kind do you like?"

"You're going to tell him what kind of flowers that I like so he can send them to me?"

"Would you rather he send them to your alter ego?" Lionel considered the options before them. "Why don't you send him flowers?"

"Me send _him_ flowers?" Joss sputtered.

Lionel shrugged. "Why not? It is, after all, the 21st century. Women can make the first move."

Joss narrowed her eyes at her partner. "What are you getting out of this?"

"Who me?" Lionel turned his head to look at her. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Not a thing. Send him flowers, but don't sign the card."

"And then what? When he gets on line and tells me that someone sent him flowers, what am I supposed to tell him?" Joss countered.

"Make something up."

"Lie to him, you mean."

"You're not already? He thinks you're Maggie, the perfect woman who understands him – although you did stand him up on your first date," Lionel reminded none too gently. "I think taking the sin thing into consideration went out the window a couple of days ago."

"Thanks, Lionel," Joss murmured against the rim of the coffee cup. "That helps."

"Look, Carter, I don't know what to tell you. Send him flowers, don't send him flowers. Meet him for dinner or coffee. Or maybe hook up at the local Holiday Inn. I'm only the cupid here; I can't be expected to do everything to insure that the two of you have a happy ever after," Lionel didn't try to mask the frustration in his voice.

"Okay," Joss conceded with a sigh, "what kind of flower should I send him?"

Lionel shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't had a chance to explore his metro-sexual side," he quipped. "But a flower should reflect the personality of the receiver."

"What kind of flower do you like?"

Lionel thought for a moment. "It's small and white with what looks like little butterfly wings on the petals," he answered.

Joss' eyes widened. "Pansies?! Your favourite flower is a pansy?!"

Lionel felt his cheeks flush hot. "I don't know what it's called; it's pretty and my mom planted them a lot."

Joss tried to stifle a giggle. "Maybe someone should be sending _you_ flowers, Lionel," she teased.

"Yeah. Right," he groused. Taking the corner slowly, he pointed toward the apartment building in the distance. "Looks like we're here," he announced.

"_Dispatch to Detective Carter,"_ said a female voice over the police radio band. Joss picked up the mic and pressed the button to talk.

"Detective Carter to Dispatch. Go ahead."

"_You've been requested to return back to the house."_

"Be advised that my partner and I are currently in the process of questioning a suspect in a cold case," Joss returned authoritatively.

"_Roger that. A suspect connected to your cold case has been delivered to the precinct."_

"A suspect has been _delivered_?!" Joss and Lionel exchanged questioning looks.

_"That's affirmative. Over."_

Joss paused before pressing the button. "How do you know he's connected to my case? Over."

_"He had a note attached to him with you name on it."_

Lionel chuckled. "Wonderboy strikes again."

"Dispatch be advised that I will be there in twenty minutes."

_"Roger that. Dispatch out."_

Joss replaced the mic. "John..." she muttered under her breath.

"Looks like the perp might need the flowers, Carter," Lionel laughed lightly.

Joss shook her head. "Let's get back to the 8th," she ordered.

Unable to contain his amusement, a huge grin broke out on Lionel's face as he turned the car around.


	22. Chapter 22

_Valentine's Day is right around the corner, but in order for Reese and Carter to get together, they have to make amends first. The delivery of a perp at the station house was a step in the right direction - albeit not exactly what Joss would have wanted. But she's still playing both sides. But there is one little problem she forgot to take into account: Jealousy. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Cupid**

Joss picked up the small bowl of dressing and poured it over the plate of salad sitting before her. She picked up her fork then looked up.

"Thanks for helping me and Fusco close the cold case," she said to Reese who was sitting directly across from her.

"No problem, Joss."

She stabbed the tomato slice and gave a frustrated sigh before bringing the vegetable to her mouth. Chewing, she tried to think of something to say. "Of course, you didn't have to deliver him directly to the 8th," she remarked.

Reese lifted the water goblet and twirled the liquid around. "What's wrong, Joss? You don't like the attention?"

Joss swallowed quickly. "Being in the spotlight is not exactly me."

"Afraid people will talk?" he asked with a lilt in his voice.

"As if they aren't already. You should really give me a heads up before you decide to be so generous."

"Where is the fun in that, Joss?"

"People are going to think that I have some kind of vigilante secret admirer."

"They don't already?" he challenged.

Joss sighed. "You know what I mean, John. A little warning would have gone a long way. Womack is already looking at me funny." She absentmindedly cut her tomatoes into little pieces.

"I didn't want you to have to spend another night out in the cold with your partner."

"With Fusco? He's not so bad," she defended her partner.

"Oh?"

Joss pushed the salad around on her plate. "Well, he does have to propensity to talk the hind leg off of dog, but give him a box of donuts and he shuts up pretty quick," she said with a smile.

"I'll remember to send him a box or two before you two go on your next stake-out."

Joss shot him a look. "I want him quiet, not to go into a diabetic coma, John."

"Ah, well, you get a quiet stake-out either way."

Joss tried to concentrate on her salad, but eventually gave up. Laying her fork down, she looked at Reese.

"I think we need to talk," she began. She rubbed her suddenly wet palms over her slacks. And tried to take a deep breath. "We...you and I...our falling out over Leila and Elias..."

Reese's eyes held with Joss' and didn't let go. "Yes?" he prompted, his voice soft.

"You should have called me." Quickly she raised her hand to stop Reese's objection. "Hear me out. Please." She grabbed the water and took a long sip before continuing.

"You were wrong, but you did the best you could under the circumstances. I was wrong to accuse you of disregarding my authority. You tried to save a baby, and I..." Joss' voice quavered slightly. "...and I... put the life of a mafia don above the life of a child. I am as much to blame for Szymanski as anyone," she admitted.

"I'm sorry I shut you out and gave you the cold shoulder. I'm sorry that I didn't put as much faith in you as I should have," she continued. She looked down at her hands, then looked up at Reese. "Can you forgive me?"

"I did just as many wrong things, too. I have trust issues, Joss, and I thought I could save Leila and thwart Elias without involving you." Reese looked at Joss with sad, apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry."

Unprepared for his confession, Joss paused for a moment before replying, "I'm sorry, too."

"So, we're good?" he asked. His smile was small – almost hesitant – as he waited for her reply.

"We're good, John." Joss nodded. "We're good." She picked up her fork. Reese did the same.

A comfortable silence fell between them as they slowly ate their meals – each mirroring the other in movements. Though neither seemed to notice.

"How have you been?" Reese began as he tried to start a conversation. There had been a truce and forgiveness, but he was still hesitant to dip his toe in the water.

"Fine. You?"

"Well, considering I got my bell rung pretty good by Lynch, I've been better," he joked lightly.

"I'm sorry," Joss murmured. Looking closely she could make out the faint bruise just under Reese's right eye. It was all she could do not to reach out and touch him.

"It's alright. I've had worse than being pistol whipped." He laid his silverware across his plate. "How are things...with that guy?"

"Guy?" Joss repeated.

"The one you were meeting the other night," he reminded her.

"Yeah. Him. Things are good. We had a little bit of a falling out," she admitted.

"Oh?"

"But we smoothed things over. We're good now."

"Does he know that you're having dinner with me?" Reese wondered.

"He does. He's a pretty understanding person. He – he likes me for who I am."

"That's good, Joss," Reese said, but his voice was hollow. "You deserve to have someone who appreciates you for who you are."

"I do," she agreed.

"He probably doesn't stalk you and interrupt your plans with phone calls, or asks you to bend the law to his advantage," Reese quipped mockingly.

"No. No, he doesn't. But he has other-"

"And I doubt he'll do something that will break your heart." The corner of Reese's mouth twitched as he spoke the words from his heart.

Joss cocked her head and studied her friend. There was something different about him that she couldn't put her finger on. She wasn't sure, but she swore he sounded almost...jealous.

"What's wrong, John?"

"What's he like?"

"What do you mean?"

"The guy – the one you're seeing. What's he like as a person?"

Joss smiled. "Why do you want to know? Are you going to kneecap him?" she teased lightly.

Reese's eyes met hers and held fast. "No. I just want to make sure that he's a good guy."

Joss nodded. "He's a good guy," she assured. "A really good guy with a great heart. You would like him," she added.

Reese thought deeply about Joss' praise for the 'other guy'. After a minute he shook his head before he spoke. "I don't think I would."

Flummoxed by his response, Joss looked at him inquisitively. "Why is that, John?"

Reese's smile was as sad as his eyes as he covered Joss' hand with his. His throat was tight as he replied honestly, "Because he has you."  
******

_There you are!_

Here I am. Is everything alright?

_You haven't been on._

I've been busy with work. And a friend needed me.

_I hope he's okay._

He's fine. Doing better.

_That's good. He's lucky to have you as a friend. _

I'm the one who's lucky. But what wrong?

_I've been worried._

Why is that?

_Not sure. Thought maybe you found someone else to chat with._

Ha. That won't happen.

_The world is a funny place. People change. People move on._

You sound fatalistic. Is something wrong?

_I don't know._

Talk to me, Conrad. What's wrong?

_She moved on._

Who moved on?

_The woman I told you about – the one who kicked me to the curb._

Really? How do you know? Did she tell you that?

_Not in so many words, but I can read people pretty well, and her smile didn't lie. He makes her happy._

How is that a bad thing?

_I'm scared._

About what? That's she's happy? Or that it won't last?

_That she made the wrong choice._

Ah. Like Jessica.

_Like Jessica._

So you think this man is just using her?

_It's what I feel._

Did you tell her that?

_How could I?_

Easily. Come out and tell her that you think she's making the wrong choice. If she cares about you, she'll understand.

_Maybe._

What if you had told her how you feel? Then what?

_I wouldn't have told her. I would never risk that part of me._

That's a bit selfish.

_What do you mean?_

You obviously still care about her, but you won't tell her because you're afraid.

_It's called self-preservation, Maggie._

It's selfish. I thought you were about pity. Tell her how you feel.

_Then what?_

Let her decide. If you're half the guy I think you are, she's lucky.

_There is a problem with your suggestion._

What?

_I like you, too._

You're not a bad guy, Conrad.

_I have a confession. We talked._

You and her? About what?

_What drove us apart. We forgave each other._

That's good.

_I said I was sorry._

How did it make you feel?

_Good. I meant it._

It wouldn't have had the same impact if you hadn't. :)

_I was going to tell her how I feel, but..._

_[Conrad is typing...]_

_Then she talked about the other man in her life. How can I compete with that?_

Send her flowers.

_Nah._

Have you sent her flowers?

_Well, no. But I can't._

You won't. Do it. See what happens. She might like it.

_I don't know what kind of flower she likes._

Wait! You care about this woman, you've forgiven her, but you don't know what kind of flower she likes?!

_No. _

Send her something. Anything.

_Something and anything isn't going to cut it with her. She needs something unique and special._

Just like her.

_Wow. Are you in my head?_

Why do you ask?

_That's what I was thinking._

Well, they say that great minds think alike.

_So, what would you send?_

Me? Send flowers to her?

_Yes. No. If you were me. What do you like? Roses? Tulips? _

None of the above. I like potted plants.

_Why?_

Because bouquets die. I want something that lasts.

_Like friendship and love._

Exactly.

_Do you think she would like a potted plant? _

Sure.

_What kind?_

Well, don't send her a cactus. Morning Glories, Chrysanthemums...take your pick.

_And if she doesn't like it?_

You still have me.

_I do._

I should let you get some sleep. Think about sending her something. You might not be disappointed by her reaction.

_I'll think about it. Thanks, Maggie. You're a great friend._

You're not so bad yourself, Conrad.

_Good night._

Good night.


	23. Chapter 23

_It's T-minus two days and counting until Valentine's Day, and Joss is taking charge of her love life – hell, that is the kind of person she is - but she may have bitten off more than she can chew, this time. I'll let you decide. Once again, I think Fusco steals the show._

* * *

**Cupid**

"Delivery for Joss Carter," the voice announced over the hustle and bustle in the bullpen. For a couple of seconds everything came to a halt as all eyes turned toward the desk furthest against the back wall.

"I'm Joss Carter," she said and raised her hand to be noticed and stood up. The young delivery man made his way over to the desk. In his hands he held a large box tied with a red satin bow.

"This is for you." Before Joss could speak, the box was thrust into her hands. "Oh, and you have to sign this." The young man produced a computerized log sheet. "Right on the line," he directed. Once Joss signed, he logged it.

Reaching for her purse, Joss started to pull out her wallet. "Here, let me get you something."

"No need. That was taken care of – very generously, I might add," he said with a big smile. "Have a good day." He turned on his heel and departed before Joss could reply.

Lionel looked up. "What is that?" His nature was to be curious and he was living up to it.

"I don't know." Joss pulled the lid open. "Oh," she breathed and picked up the potted wealth of baby roses. "Beautiful." She turned the pot around in her hands to see every side. The light scent reached her nose.

"Wonderboy?" Lionel asked with a smile.

"Yeah," Joss had to admit.

"But I didn't tell him anything..." Realization slowly dawned on Lionel, but before he could say anything, his phone beeped. Looking at the caller ID, he sighed. "Hey, I'm going to get a coffee; you want one?" he offered.

"Sure," Joss vaguely answered, but her mind was on the roses and not java.

The moment wasn't lost on Lionel before he turned on his heel to hurry to his meeting.  
****

Standing in line at the food truck, Lionel blew on his hands to warm them against the suddenly cold wind.

"What do you know? He still comes when he's called," Reese spoke low in Lionel's ear.

"Yeah," Lionel grumbled, "and with the way I keep going out for coffee, I'm pretty sure the Captain is worrying about me going into kidney failure."

Reese gave a slight shrug. "Eh. You have great medical insurance."

"Medical insurance. You're going to need medical insurance if the woman you've been chatting with finds out that you sent flowers to Carter," Lionel warned. The line moved up one, but it was still slow moving, so he stomped his feet to keep them warm.

"Flowers to Carter?" Reese murmured, but the look on his face gave nothing away. "How do you know it was me?"

"I might be corrupt, but I'm still a detective. I thought you wanted me to get the information for you."

"I found another way."

"What? You hacked her computer?"

"Nothing that drastic, Lionel. Let's say that I have other ways of getting things done."

The line moved again.

"Well, you could have warned me," Lionel grumbled.

"What's wrong, Lionel?"

"Heh. You mean other than standing out here in the cold wind pretending to buy coffee so you can tell me that you have other ways of getting information about what Carter likes and you forgot to tell me? No, nothing's wrong."

The line moved. Lionel was one customer away from ordering.

"I do need you to do something for me."

"How come whenever you ask me to do something for you, I feel the need to go in and increase my death benefits?"

"I don't know. I still need you."

"Is this _something _going to get me shot?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

Lionel gave a snort. "That's comforting. What do you need?"

"Find the woman I've been chatting with."

"Why?"

"I have my reasons."

"Reasons that are going to get my ass shot! I don't get paid extra for bullet wounds," Lionel stated angrily. When a reply didn't come, he turned around to find that Reese had disappeared. He sighed.

"Only problem is that I will get shot when you find out that Carter is the woman you want me to find," he muttered under his breath.

"NEXT!"

Lionel stepped up to the window. "Two coffees. One with sugar and cream, and one with cream." He pulled out the dollar bills and slammed them on the counter. He was going to walk slowly back to the bullpen because if his last enjoyment on earth was the coffee in his hand, he was going to savour it to the last drop.  
*****

"If we keep meeting out in the open, someone might see us," Joss warned, ducking quickly into the alley way out of the wind and cold.

"I'll protect you," Reese promised. He stood in front of Joss to block the wind. "Is that better?"

"Yes." But it wasn't the wind that was bothering her, it was the unmistakable heat rising between them that was making it impossible to concentrate on anything other than the man standing before her.

"You wanted to see me, Joss?"

"Thank you for the plant?"

"Plant?" Reese's face was pure innocence, but his eyes danced with mischief.

"The one you sent me," she reminded.

"Oh. That plant. You liked it?"

"I do like it," she corrected. "It's beautiful. I didn't know you had such great taste."

"I have my moments."

"You do," she replied. Her heart kept skipping beats, but she wasn't sure if it was from the brutal cold or the way Reese was standing close. Either way, she tried to calm herself. But then he touched her, and her resolve went out the window.

Reese reached up and cupped her cheek. He felt the warmth of her soft skin against his palm, and his heart skip a beat. "Joss..."

"Yes?"

He tried to remember what he was going to tell her, but then she looked up at him with those big brown eyes, and his heart went from skipping beats into full-fledged free fall.

"What are you doing Valentine's Day?" he asked.

"I..." Joss tried to think of a response. It was so easy to confess everything to him – now that she was standing close enough to hold him and kiss him – but it was too soon to play her hand.

Reese pressed his index finger over her lips. "Hear me out, first," he requested. His heart was in his eyes, and there was no mistaking the desire in the twin blue pools. Joss felt herself drowning. So she nodded.

"I would love to spend the day with you. A little champagne...maybe dinner at the top of the Empire State Building...a little dancing..." he offered. His fingers touched Joss' hair. So soft and silky.

Joss felt her body flush hot with desire at the thought of spending the night with the Man in The Suit. "You dance?" she asked, her voice tight.

"Not very well," he confessed. "Actually, not well at all," he corrected. He played with a lock of her hair. "I'm sure that you could teach me."

"I could."

"So, is it a deal? You and me on Valentine's Day?" he asked.

"I...can't," she confessed. "I want to," she added quickly trying to soothe the sting of her rejection. "But I have other plans."

Reese looked at Joss. Every fiber in his being to him not to believe her, but as he looked deep in her eyes, he could tell that she wasn't lying. "Him?"

Joss nodded. "Yes."

Defeated, Reese closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He had waited too long. His chance with Joss had passed him by and it was no one's fault but his.

Opening his eyes, Reese tried to smile. "He's a lucky man. I hate him, but he's the luckiest man on earth because he has you."

Joss was expecting anything but the simple way Reese had given up. She could handle anger and denial – maybe even his begging of her to stay. But this... She looked into his eyes and saw only defeat on his part and happiness for her.

"I don't know if he knows he's lucky."

"He knows, Joss. Trust me. I hope he appreciates you."

"I hope so, too."

Locking eyes, Reese leaned in and down. Joss felt her body freeze. Was he going to kiss her? Fear, then excitement, coursed thru her body at lightning speed. She wanted it. She didn't want it. But she wasn't going to stop it. Her eyes closed in anticipation.

But at the last moment Reese turned his head and let his lips land on Joss' cheek. Brushing her skin, he told himself that this was for the best. She was leaving him, and all he could do was let her walk away.

Shocked by his action, Joss opened her eyes. "John..."

"I love you, Joss," was his only reply before he turned and walked away. Before Joss could call him back, he turned the corner and disappeared into the crowd.

"Damn it!" Joss cursed out loud to the empty alley. Let down, she laid her head against the bricks and tried to stop the prick of tears in her eyes. "Damn it!" she repeated but with less forcefulness. Everything that could go wrong just had. It was going to take a miracle to get it back on track.

"Joss, what have you got yourself into, girl?" She asked herself the same question from a couple weeks earlier. Only this time, she had no answer.


	24. Chapter 24

_It's taken two months to find the reason to continue writing this story. I guess I just needed to step back and let it go so it could work itself out. And I realized that I owe it to all of my readers to finish this and give our lovers a memorable Valentine's Day._

* * *

**Cupid**

The usual sounds of the bullpen wasn't bothering Lionel. Actually, it was the complete silence coming from across the room that was worrying him. Removing his reading glasses, he glanced over at his partner's desk.

"What's wrong?" Lionel asked.

"Nothing," Joss replied, but she didn't lift her head. Almost statue like, she remained concentrated on the sheet of paper in her hands.

Lionel tilted his head to get a better view. "You sure?"

"Heh." She waved him off with the flutter of her hand.

"I was only wondering because you've been staring at that folder for nearly an hour. Either it's a case you're trying to figure out, or something is on your mind," he pointed out matter of factly.

"It's nothing." She rubbed her eyes and tried to focus on the blurry words.

Lionel got up from his chair and walked over to Joss' desk. "Talk to me, Carter. What's wrong? Is it Wonderboy?"

Joss closed the file and sighed. "We met," she confessed, but there was no happiness in her tone.

"Ah. So that is where you ducked out for lunch. I take it that it didn't go so well," he observed cautiously. He was eager to hear all, but this was one minefield he was going to have to tip-toe thru.

"It went worse than that," she admitted reluctantly. "He asked me out on Valentine's Day."

A big stupid grin broke out on Lionel's face. "That's great! You two are finally connecting!" he chortled. "So why are you looking all down in the dumps?"

"I turned him down."

"You what?!" Lionel exclaimed. The noise in the bullpen dropped considerably as all eyes turned to him. "You what?!" he repeated but at a lower decibel. Slowly the noise in the room returned to normal.

"I turned him down."

"Why?" Lionel tried to make sense of the confession. He was sure there had to be a good reason for what she did, but he wasn't finding one.

"He doesn't love me."

"Doesn't love you...?" Lionel was flummoxed by Joss' statement. "What do you mean he doesn't love you?" As far as he was concerned, it had seemed they had finally found each other. He had heard them say the words - albeit to him - and saw the look in their eyes. They were in love. They just didn't realize it.

"He loves her," she sighed sorrowfully.

"Her? You mean Maggie?"

"Yes."

"But Maggie is you," he pointed out. He didn't get what the fuss was all about.

"John doesn't know that."

"Oh." Slowly the truth dawned on him. "What about the flowers?" Lionel nodded toward the beautiful potted plant of roses sitting in the middle of the desk. "A man doesn't send flowers like this to a woman he has lukewarm feelings for."

"He sent them because I told him what to send."

Lionel scoffed. "Come on, Carter. He cares about you. He told me so."

"Yeah, well, I've been the one chatting with him on line, and I know that he's got 'Maggie' waiting in the wings should things not work out with me," Joss stated in a hurt tone.

"Maggie is _you_," Lionel reminded her. "It doesn't matter who he throws over, the result is that he ends up with _you_."

Joss narrowed her eyes. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Lionel reconsidered his remark. "Well, yes. No." He sat down on the corner of the desk. "Look, Carter, you two finally met in the middle. Almost," he amended. His heart was sinking with each passing minute.

"No 'almost', Lionel. He loves _her_." Joss returned the folder to the stack. "He only asked me out because he felt guilty." At least that is what she kept telling herself to help ease the pain in her heart. Then again, she didn't want to think about it. All she wanted to do was go home, have a glass of wine, and lose herself in a bubble bath and book.

"You helped him out the other day. You saved him. That should mean something," he implored her to understand what he knew to be true. Or what he thought was true. But he wasn't as sure anymore. The look in Joss' eyes was bleak. Hopeless.

"Maybe to you and me, but not him. He asked Maggie out, too."

_Damn! _"I hope you/she turned him down."

"Yes. But that doesn't make things feel better."

"The man is confused, Joss. He loves you, but you pushed him away. He found a way to connect with you – without knowing it was you – and found a reason to trust again. Then he connected with the real you," Lionel explained in layman's terms. "He doesn't know what or who to trust. Go to him. Talk to him."

Joss shook her head. "I can't. Maybe it's really over." She stood up and lifted her coat from the back of the chair. Donning it, she took her time buttoning it closed. The thought of going home was tempting, but she wasn't going to rush it. She didn't want to be alone.

"Carter, don't do anything rash. You love him. He loves you," Lionel pleaded. "Talk to him. Work it out."

Joss wrapped the scarf around her neck. She gave a kind look to her partner. "You did your best, Fusco. We're just not meant to be." She looked at her watch. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go home; Taylor is waiting for me." Turning on her heel, she walked out of the bullpen.

Lionel watched as she departed – her head held high. He knew she was hurting inside, and he knew that it was his fault. He closed his eyes. Maybe he should never have gotten involved. He should have left well enough alone.

"No," he argued with himself. But Joss was calling it quits. End of story. It was time to leave his friends alone, he told himself.

"Yeah," he muttered under his breath. "I'll leave them alone after I'm dead and buried." Taking the phone from his slacks pocket, he punched two numbers. A second later, he was connected.

"Hello, Detective," Finch's voice greeted.

"Finch, we have a problem," Lionel skipped over the pleasantries. There just wasn't a moment to waste anymore.

"I heard." Was that a bit of disdain in Finch's voice? Lionel didn't have time to ponder the thought; they had a job to do.

"Well, we need to do something."

"You did your best, Detective," Finch complimented. "But I think it's time to let this one go."

"I can't."

"Detective Carter turned John down."

"Uh, he has another woman waiting in the wings," Lionel shot back defensively. He had a strange urge to protect his partner from condemnation.

"That woman is Detective Carter."

"He wasn't honest with her."

"I'm sure he had his reasons," Finch replied dryly.

"You're against them getting together. Why?"

"I have my reasons." Nothing he wanted to elaborate, and he was going to leave it there.

"Well, I have my reasons for trying to make it work," Lionel argued back.

"It's a good effort, Detective, but..."

"They are like two ships passing in the night."

"Somehow the Titanic comes to mind."

Lionel rolled his eyes. "The one ship that hit an iceberg and sank. Really good, Glasses. Any other gems you want to lump our friends in with?"

"There is the Hindenberg."

Lionel held up his hand. "Okay. You win. I need to make this right."

"I would advise you, to let it go," Finch cautioned.

Lionel jabbed his thumb into his chest. "Look, I'm the cupid here; it's my job to make sure they get what they want," he retorted.

"Which is?"

"Each other and a happy ending."

"The only ending I foresee is the one with your demise."

"Eh. You're a wealth of comfort. Tell me where he is."

"I can't do that."

"Yes, you can."

"Detective..."

"Either tell me where he is, or I put an APB out on the 'Man In The Suit'," Lionel threatened. There was no joking in his tone.

Finch debated internally before relenting. "He's at home."

"Home?" Lionel sounded surprised at the revelation. "You mean like four walls and all that?"

"Yes."

"Wow. Can I have the address? Please." he asked.

"Sending it to you now. Is there anything else I can help you with?" Finch asked with a little hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Lionel considered the request. "Just one."

"Which would be...?" Finch prompted.

"Make sure I have a great looking casket at my funeral." Before Finch could reply, Lionel flipped the phone shut to disconnect the call.

"I'm a dead man," he muttered to no one in particular. He rubbed his forehead to try and lessen the tension building. "Yeah, I'm dead."


	25. Chapter 25

_Without further ado, here is Chapter 25._

* * *

**Cupid**

_Maggie, are you there?_

Yes. What is wrong?

_I think we need to talk._

What do you mean? Talk, like how?

_I have a confession._

What kind of confession?

_It's about you and me._

Oh?

_I like you._

Okay.

_But I am in love with someone else._

_[pause]_

_Are you still there?_

I don't know how to respond to that. You're in love with someone else?

_It's not what I had planned. I thought that when I met you, I found the person I had been looking for._

I'm not finding any comfort. Please explain.

_The woman – the one I told you about. We reconnected._

Reconnected?

_Well, let me rephrase that. I reconnected with her. I learned a new side of her personality, and I forgave her. And she forgave me._

And you fell in love with her.

_I did._

What's her name?

_Joss. Her name is Joss. _

What's she like?

_What do you mean?_

Well, she must be one incredible woman to have stolen your heart, twice.

_[pause]_

_She's intelligent and no nonsense. She's tough as nails, and she has a good head on her shoulders. She puts up with me, which – I must say – is quite a job. She's loyal, too._

Didn't she kick you to the curb?

_She did._

But you want her back?

_I do._

What made you decide that?

_You did._

Come again?

_Talking to you. You made me see what was missing in my life._

Which was her?

_I'm sorry, Maggie. I like you, but I love Joss._

You do realize that you asked me out for Valentine's Day, right?

_I did?_

You did.

_[long pause]_

_Maggie, I'm sorry. I must have forgotten._

You forgot?

_You're angry._

No. No. Not really. Except...

_What?_

You wanted my advice on winning back her back.

_Let me explain..._

SMHL. You had one of us waiting in the wings.

_That isn't what I planned on doing._

One question: Did you ask her out?

[pause]

Did you ask her out?

_I did._

After you asked me out?

_I did._

What did she say?

_She turned me down._

She turned you down. Well, John, that's...interesting. And you love her?

_More than I thought possible._

Does she make you happy?

_More than I deserve to be._

Would you lay your life down for her?

_In a minute._

Would she do the same for you?

_I don't know._

Does she love you?

_I don't know._

You don't know?! Has she said she does or doesn't?

_It hasn't come up._

Wait! You love her. You haven't told her. And to top it off, you don't know if she loves you?

_It's not that easy._

It IS that easy. Tell her.

_She loves him._

Him?

_The other guy._

Oh. She said that?

_Not in so many words._

But she didn't say it? Out loud?

_No. Not really._

Did she come out and say 'I love this guy; now go away'?

_Maggie..._

I want to make sure she deserves you. Did she say it?

_No._

She loves you.

_She doesn't._

Are you calling me a liar?

_No._

Did she like the roses?

_She said she did._

That's enough to make me say that you won her over. Now, go get her.

_That simple?_

Any simpler, and she would be standing outside your door.

_I wish._

Why wish? Go to her.

_And do what when I get there?_

She saved your life. You saved hers. Tell her that you love her. Make her believe you love her.

_And she'll believe me?_

If she doesn't, you don't need her.

[pause]

It's probably just as well this happened. I found someone, too.

_Oh. That's...good. Is he a nice guy?_

The best.

_Do you love him?_

With all of my heart.

_I understand. __I hope he makes you happy. _

I'm sure he will...once he realizes that we're meant to be together.

I guess this is good-bye.

Nothing is ever good-bye. We'll see each other again.

_I guess. Bye, Maggie._

_Bye, Conrad._

Reese pushed back from the desk and closed his eyes. Maggie was gone, and Joss had rejected him. And Valentine's Day was one day away.

He needed a drink.

Walking over to the bar, he pulled down the bottle of bourbon. Half-way full, he observed, but it was enough to get the job done. If not, he could always run down to the corner store and get a couple more bottles. But right now, he just wanted to forget both women.

Tossing the drink back, he barely winced as it burned a path down his throat. The liquor hit his stomach and started a fire that slowly warmed him. Leaning over, he filled the glass again before swallowing the contents.

Two down. It was going to be a long night.  
*****

Lionel climbed the stairs to the loft apartment. Closing his eyes, he leaned against the railing and tried to catch his breath.

"Didn't anyone think about installing an elevator?" he muttered under his breath. With the back of his hand he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He thought about turning back, but it was too late now; he was right outside the door.

Saying a little prayer, he raised his fist and knocked.

Lionel swore his heart picked up speed with each lock that turned. He swallowed his fear and braced himself for what was about to go down.

"Joss, I wasn't expecting you..." Reese's greeting faded from his lips as he noticed Lionel standing on the landing. "You're not Joss," he observed.

Lionel waved the air with his hand. "And you're anything but sober," he grimaced. "Whew! How much have you had?"

"What are you doing here, Lionel?"

"I need to talk to you."

"Go away."

"I can't. There is something I need to tell you."

Reese started to close the door. At the last moment Lionel shoved his foot in. "Hear me out."

Reese considered his options and realized he had none. Rolling his eyes upward, he opened the door. "Come in, Lionel. Want a drink?"

Lionel looked at the numerous bottles on the shelves behind the wet bar. "Got any Sprite?" he wondered.

"Fresh out." Reese made his way over to grab another glass.

"Darn my bad luck."

"I got Scotch," Reese offered.

Lionel shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm good." He looked around at the large, spacious room in amazement. "Wow!"

"What?"

"This." Lionel turned around in a circle. "I never pictured you living in such luxury," he replied.

"What did you expect?"

"I don't know. An underground tunnel. A cardboard box. A telephone booth," he listed off the possibilities. "Thought maybe that's where you kept your cape in case of emergencies."

"I keep it in the hall closet so it's close by," Reese replied tongue in cheek. "What do you want to talk about?"

Lionel shoved his hands into his pants pocket. It was the moment of truth.

"What's going on with you and Carter?"

"Nothing." Reese filled the glass and threw it back. "Not a damn thing."

"Did you ask her out?" Lionel wondered.

"You know I did."

"And she turned you down."

Reese slammed the glass on the counter. "Is this suppose to make me feel better? Because it's not."

"Why did she turn you down?" Lionel probed.

"I'm sure you know." Reese's hand shook ever so slightly as he refilled the glass.

"I want to hear it from you."

"She loves someone else."

"I see."

"You don't sound surprised."

Lionel shrugged. "Just getting all of the facts. What about the other woman?"

"Other woman?"

"The one waiting in the wings."

Reese's eyes flashed hot. "Is that what Joss told you?"

"Joss didn't tell me anything I didn't already know. So, you asked her out while you had another woman waiting in the wings? That takes balls, my friend," Lionel grinned. "Knew you were a few things, but 'player' never crossed my thought."

"Lionel..." Reese warned.

"So, what's going on with her? The 'other woman'," he amended.

"She has someone."

Lionel's eyes widened. "She left you, too? Wow. Both of them."

"Are you getting pleasure from rubbing my nose in my failures?" Reese groused.

"So, you have no one."

"I need another drink."

"Look. Look. I'm sorry. I just...I thought that with two women, you might have a chance."

The tip of the bottle clanked unevenly against the rim of the glass. "Like a snowball in hell."

"Heh. Joss thinks you don't love her."

Some of the liquid sloshed over. "She what?" Reese's heart sank at the thought.

"Do you?"

"Love her? I do."

"And the other woman? Do you love her?" Lionel dug deeper.

"No. Not that way. I like her."

"What if you could have both of them?" Lionel asked out of the blue.

Reese gave his friend a wary look. "What the hell are you talking about, Lionel?"

"Joss and the other woman. What if you could have both of them wrapped up in one person?"

"I'm drunk, not stupid. And I'm not quite that drunk...yet. Get to the point, Lionel," he stated. "You know something. Spill it."

Sweat broke out across Lionel's forehead. He was a dead man.

"I might know something..." he began. "Something about the other woman."

Reese couldn't believe his ears. "You found her? You know who she is?"

"I...I do," he hedged. _Oh yeah, he was dead._

"What's her name?"

"Jocelyn Margaret Carter."

The deafening silence that fell over the room was almost too painful to bear.

A thousand heartbeats later, Reese's low voice cut through the silence. "What did you say?"

Lionel swallowed and repeated, "Jocelyn Margaret Carter."

"Are you telling me that the woman I've been chatting with for the past two weeks is Joss?" Reese asked slowly and deliberately.

Lionel took a step back before answering, "Yes."

Reese clenched his fist. "You better have a damn good explanation."

"It was for your own good," Lionel blurted out. "You were lonely and heartbroken, and I wanted to make you feel better. Joss was heartbroken, too. And I...I figured that maybe I could get the two of you together and..." His brain searched quickly for an appropriate word. "...and not be lonely anymore."

"The truth."

"That is the truth. You have to believe me," Lionel implored. "I did this for your own good. I wanted you to have a great woman who could like you – I mean, you have your likeable moments. Okay, this isn't one of them, but you're a good guy. I wanted you to be happy."

"You set me up with the woman who kicked me out of her life?" Reese asked incredulously. "Are you insane?"

Lionel nodded. "Looking back? Yeah, maybe. It was stupid. But I meant well."

The wheels turned in Reese's brain as he tried to fit the pieces together. "You didn't do this alone. Did she help you?"

Lionel spread his hands wide. "No. She was just as surprised as you when she found out." His eyes flew up to meet those of the man who held his life in his hands. "Ooops?"

"She knew?"

"Not at first," Lionel rushed to his partner's defense. "She almost killed me when she found out."

"Would have saved me the effort," Reese grumbled under his breath.

"She was going to cut off contact with you, but then she fell in love with the guy I knew you really were. How could she walk away?"

"You said she was going to cut off contact. Who set up the accounts?" Reese asked.

"I did."

"You're corrupt and a liar, Lionel," Reese dismissed the confession. "But you're not that smart. You had someone backing you. If it wasn't Joss, who was it?" Reese asked rhetorically. "Harold."

"He was against it from the beginning," Lionel rushed in quickly. For some unknown reason he felt the need to protect the bespectacled man who had fought him from the very beginning over setting up the deception. Maybe he should have heeded the wise man's advice.

"I don't believe you."

"He didn't want you two to get together," Lionel revealed. "He fought me every inch of the way. He only gave in because..." Lionel paused. For the life of him, he had _no_ idea why Finch had given in every time he asked for one more chance.

"I doubt you threatened to kick his ass," Reese remarked dryly.

"Maybe he believes in true love?" Lionel offered weakly.

Although pickled, Reese's brain tried to make sense of everything that had hit him from all sides. He was angry and pissed, but his heart broke at the same time. He felt betrayed.

"Joss knew."

"What do mean?"

"Tonight. On line. She knew. She called me 'John'. As she was telling me to go back to the woman I love, she was cutting me loose."

"She just wants to believe that you love her. See it from her point of view," Lionel pleaded with all of his heart. "You sent her flowers, then asked her out, but you asked out her alter ego. She was confused."

"And the first flowers?" Reese wondered. "Did you send those?"

"On a cop's pay?" Lionel scoffed. "No way."

"Finch."

"Look, we meant well. You still have a chance with her. Don't let her go. Go to her. Talk. Connect. Fall in love again."

Reese set the bottle down on the counter with a deliberate thud. He tried to breathe, but his chest hurt. He closed his eyes and tried to find his balance.

Opening his eyes, he looked up at Lionel with a look that needed no interpretation.

"Get out," his voice was low and bordered on a growl.

Lionel hesitated, although his heart raced at the speed of sound. He opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted.

"Get. Out. Now."

Backing up slowly, Lionel walked backwards across the floor until his back connected with the heavy oak door. Blindly his hand reached for the door handle. He turned it once. Twice. On the third attempt, the door opened. Without a word, he slipped out to the landing and closed the door behind him.

He barely remembered walking down the stairs to the car, but once he was inside, he closed and locked the door. Secure in the sanctuary of his car, only then did he begin to breathe. He felt the strength slowly leave his body.

Leaning his head against the steering wheel, he closed his eyes and wept.


	26. Chapter 26

_Here is the confrontation between Reese and Finch. Sorry it took so long to update, but I guess there was a twist to this story that even I didn't see coming._

* * *

**Cupid**

Finch's fingers were flying over the keyboard with expertise as he concentrated on the information the Machine was sending to him – or lack thereof. No matter how hard he tried, the information was not making sense. Two days straight without a number, and Finch was worried that there might be something wrong. All morning he tried to get into the database to find out if there was a glitch, but every time he tried to enter, he was thwarted.

"Tell me what is wrong so I can help you," Finch spoke low to the computer monitor. "I can't fix you if I don't know what is wrong," he pleaded and leaned in closer. His concentration was so focused that he didn't hear the footsteps approaching.

"Hello, Finch," Reese greeted his friend and mentor without feeling.

Startled back to the present, Finch turned around in the chair. "Mr. Reese! I didn't hear you come in!"

Reese nodded toward the computer. "Something wrong with The Machine?" he asked.

"I don't know," Finch admitted. "Is everything alright?"

"You tell me," Reese returned. His voice held just a bit of a growl. "How long did you know?"

Finch gave his best friend a dumbfounded look. "How long did I know...?" he repeated. Then the meaning dawned on him. "From the beginning," he confessed. "How did you find out?"

"Fusco told me everything. Last night in my loft."

Finch realized that the worst case scenario he had envisioned had come to fruition. "I see."

"So you admit to deliberately setting me up." It wasn't a question.

"I was against it from the beginning," Finch pleaded his innocence in the whole matter.

"Yet, you still went along with it."

"I did."

"You set me up. You lied to me!"

"Mr. Reese..." Finch began to try and defend himself and his actions.

"You told me – no, you vowed to me – that you would never lie to me."

"I did. But this was different."

"Different? How could you do this? How could you deceive me – and her – by going behind our backs and setting us up?" Reese demanded. His anger was just below the surface, waiting for the moment to be unleashed. He was hurting and he wanted everyone to hurt with him.

"It's not what I wanted to do."

"But you did."

"I did."

Reese took a deep breath and tried to find his center, but nothing was working. He was missing something he couldn't put his finger on. Although it didn't help that he had been betrayed by the three people he trusted more than himself.

"At least Fusco was right on this one; he told me that you wanted nothing to do with it and were against it from the start."

"I was."

"Why?"

"Because Detective Carter isn't right for you."

"And you know this because...?"

"I've seen her at her worse. She set you up and got you shot. You almost died. Or don't you remember?" Finch retorted angrily.

"That is between me and her; you aren't part of this," Reese's voice was low as he tried to control his temper.

Finch stood up. His palms pressed hard against the wood of the desk. "Not part of this?! I was the one who saved your life," he pointed out. "She could have blown our cover! She could have exposed us!"

"She made a mistake! She paid for it!"

"How are you so sure?"

"Because she didn't go back to Snow. She helped us."

"She shut you out and cut off all contact," Finch argued. "And nearly got herself killed."

"She did," Reese agreed, "but she let us back in."

"Almost at the cost of her son. The one you risked your life for."

"You never made a mistake?" Reese shot back. "You never made a poor judgment call based on bad information?"

"It's different."

"How?"

The two men stood and looked at one another. Neither moved for fear of showing weakness. Finally, Finch backed down.

"You don't like her," Reese pointed out matter of factly. "You never have." His fists clenched tightly as he tried to control his temper.

"She never gave me a reason, John," Finch replied simply. "I figured after Jessica..."

"Leave Jessica out of this," Reese warned. His blue eyes flashed hot.

"I felt you needed to take some time to yourself and not get involved with anyone," Finch finished his explanation.

"Including Detective Carter."

"Do you remember how you were after she died? Do you remember the road you were taking when I found you?" Finch demanded. "You were lost and alone. You were on the path of self-destruction."

"It was my life!"

"You were throwing it away. I didn't want you to go down that road again."

"Who are you to play God with my life?" Reese raged. "Who gave you that right?"

"You did. When you decided to put a bottle to your head, John. You needed a purpose. Not Joss Carter."

"She's the one who found me and gave me a reason to live," Reese murmured as he remembered that night at the precinct. He had tried to ignore the flickering flame of desire the doe-eyed detective had created deep down inside of his soul, but he found it impossible. He had taken a long shower that night as he tried to wash away the smell of her perfume. But it hadn't worked. She had stayed with him during the day and haunted him in his dreams at night. Like a fantasy he could never own.

"Maybe. But she also tried to have you killed. We would be better off without her. You would have been better off without her," Finch insisted stoutly.

"At least that's what I told myself," he soberly added.

Reese looked up. "What changed your mind?"

"Grace," Finch admitted with a sad sigh. "I was bad for her, but she made me a better person. And I wanted to be better for her. Everything I did was for her. She loved me. And I saw that in Joss. And you."

It should have brought him comfort, but it didn't. "It doesn't matter. I cut it off," Reese revealed.

Finch's brain began to spin furiously as he tried to make sense of his friend's words. "What? Why?"

"What do you care? You were against this, and you never liked her."

"That's what I thought in the beginning, but she is good for you; you're good for her."

Reese's eyes were full of hurt. "It's over. You and Fusco lied to me. I need to move on."

Stricken with fear, Finch tried to make amends. "We meant no harm. We just wanted to see you happy."

"Did you?" Reese asked sarcastically. "I didn't think you knew what happiness is."

"Initially, I didn't. But things changed."

"It doesn't matter, Harold. It's over." Reese tried to ignore the heart ache overwhelming him. There was no changing what had been done. He nodded toward the monitor. "Now we can get back to business."

"Heh. That's going to be a problem, Mr. Reese," Finch began slowly.

"What's wrong? Did you get hacked again?"

Finch shook his head. "I don't know. I can't find anything that would indicate that the system was compromised, but it's been down since the armoured truck."

"Are you saying that we haven't received a number in nearly three days?" Reese asked in disbelief. He couldn't believe that in a city of ten million people no one was in dire straits.

"Not one," Finch confirmed with a sigh.

"No one needs saving?" Reese scoffed. "I find that hard to believe. Are you sure the hard drive is working? Maybe it needs a little...tweaking," he offered his little bit of computer knowledge.

"Tweaking it isn't the problem. It's sending us information," Finch replied, "just not the information we require."

"Maybe it thinks we need a break," Reese rationalized.

Finch nodded. "Perhaps." He sat down at the desk. "I'll find out what's wrong with it...eventually." He started typing. "Why don't you go home and relax?" he suggested. "I'll stay here and try working the bugs out."

Reese cast a long glance at the monitor. He was sure that the Machine was up to something, but he was too sad to really care. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to have a little down time, he thought to himself. There was a part of him that wanted to get back into the fight and save the innocents. But the part of him that he tried to deny wanted to see Joss. Reluctantly he knew that was not going to happen.

"Maybe I'll make an extra appointment with my yoga instructor," Reese said rhetorically. "You'll call me if you need me?"

"As soon as I can find out what is corrupting the system, I will notify you," Finch promised. He concentrated on the screen. "You have my word, Mr. Reese."

Reese tried to come up with a reply, but his mind was blank. "Thanks, Finch." Then he turned on his heel and walked out of the library.

The silence was nearly deafening as Finch was left alone with nothing but his computer and thoughts. And the more he thought, the more he realized that he had been wrong all along when it came to his friend and love. John and Joss were meant to be together. But now, that would never happen.

Maybe if he could find out what was wrong with the hard drive, then he could forget about his friends' love life. Typing quickly, he tried to get into the back door of the system. At the last minute, he was denied. Groaning in frustration, he considered leaving and getting a cup of his favourite tea. Fresh air and a walk around the city could help, he concluded.

Standing up, he began to pull his coat on. Suddenly the monitor shut down. Worried, Finch sat back down on the office chair and pulled the keyboard toward himself. Furiously he hit the ESCAPE button, but nothing happened – save for the cursor blinking in the corner.

He swallowed nervously. Were they being hacked - again? Or was this the end, he wondered and held his breath. A minute later the screen came back up. Finch gave what he hoped was a hopeful smile. What was taking so long?

The screen flashed twice, then a picture of Joss and a picture of Reese filled the space. Finch leaned in close as his mind tried to make sense of the Machine's logic. A big grin broke out across his face as the meaning became clear.

"So, we do have numbers, it just happens to be our mutual friends. I guess you want us to save them?"

The computer blinked once.

"You're definitely smarter than all of us combined," Finch praised the Machine. Dialing a number from memory, Finch waited for the line to be answered.

"What's up, Finch?" Lionel greeted unenthusiastically into the receiver.

"How do you feel about getting your bow and arrow and playing Cupid one last time?" Finch asked enigmatically.


	27. Chapter 27

_So, the Machine is working to bring our two star-crossed lovers together in time for Valentine's Day (I can honestly say that I didn't see that when I was fleshing out the story concept). Considering they have less than a few hours, all the Cupids are going to have to make one helluva plan, AND make it work! Even Taylor is getting in on it (I didn't see this one coming, either!) to make sure his mom finds happiness and love. Will it work?_

* * *

**Cupid**

Joss stepped out of the tub and wrapped a soft, fluffy towel around her body. The long, hot bath had not been exactly what she needed, but she couldn't think of any other way to clear her mind. All day she had tried to contact John, but there had been no response from him.

Tossing and turning after logging off from the conversation the night before, she wondered if she should have come out and told John that she was "Maggie". It definitely would have cleared her conscience. At least that is what she kept telling herself.

"Or you could have just said yes to his proposal and had a wonderful Valentine's Day," she chastised herself. "Instead, you're getting ready to order a pizza and eat it while watching TV with your son," she sighed.

Pizza wasn't so bad, she shrugged. _And_ she would be able to spend time with Taylor, so it wasn't a complete loss. Donning her polka dot, cotton pajamas, she ran a comb thru her hair. She wasn't going to be on the cover of COSMO, but what did it matter when it came to pizza, right?

"Taylor?" she called out as she descended the stairs. Looking around, she found no evidence of her son. "Taylor, where are you?"Cautiously she approached the kitchen. Turning on the light, she looked around. No Taylor.

"Right here, Mom," he answered. A few seconds later he descended the stairs. "What's wrong?" he asked innocently and straightened his tie.

"What-what are you doing dressed?" Joss stammered as she took in her conservatively dressed son.

"Valentine's Day Dance at school. Remember?" Taylor walked over to the closet near the front door and pulled out a jacket.

"Dance?" she repeated stupidly. Had he told her about a dance? With all that was going on with her life, maybe it was possible that she forgot about another milestone in Taylor's life.

"Yeah. Remember we talked about it? You said I could stay out until one?" Taylor grinned.

"Midnight," Joss automatically corrected.

Taylor grinned. "I knew you hadn't forgotten." Stopping, he eyed his mother. "What's up with the pj's? I thought you were going out. You know: Hot date with candlelight and champagne," he teased.

Joss gave a half-smile. "Change of plans. Thought I'd stay home and get a pizza."

Realization dawned on Taylor. "Aw man. Did he stand you up again?" his voice softened at his mother's heartbreak.

"Sort of. I turned him down," Joss confessed.

"Gosh, Mom. On Valentine's Day? Couldn't you have held out and let him at least buy you dinner?" Taylor wondered.

"That really makes me feel better, T."

"Sorry," he apologized. "Any way. You shouldn't be alone tonight."

"I got a pizza and a movie. I'll be alright."

"I can stay," Taylor offered a sacrifice on her behalf. "I don't have to go to the dance."

"No. No. You go. Have fun. Have a good time."

"Mom, really..." he protested.

Joss pushed him toward the door. "Go to the dance. Don't worry about me." She pulled open the door. "Now go."

Taylor turned to look at her. "Are you sure? Yeah, you're sure. Okay, Mom."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Taylor grinned broadly. "That won't be so difficult." He kissed her cheek.

"Smart aleck. Be home by midnight."

Taylor rolled his eyes. "Okay. Bye, Mom." He skipped down the stairs of the brownstone to the sidewalk. Turning, he waved once and crossed the street.

"Bye, baby." Joss closed the door and locked it.

Taylor turned the corner and stopped beside the man standing near the wall. "Man, she's got it bad," he confided.

"How bad?" Lionel asked.

"Pajamas. Polka dot ones."

"Oh."

"Are you sure this is going to work?"

"Fifty dollars says it will." Lionel pulled the bill out of his pants pocket and handed it to the teen. "Make sure you stay at your grandmother's place tonight," he instructed.

Taylor held the bill up to the light and nodded. "You got it."

"Use that to buy your date something special."

"Nah, man, I got that covered. I'm going to use this for flowers for your funeral," Taylor laughed.

"Funny kid. Get lost," he ordered in his best police officer gruff. "I have to get your mom to her date."

Taylor held out his fist to Lionel for a good luck bump. "Good luck, Detective." He hurried down the sidewalk toward the school.

Taking a deep breath, Lionel said a quick prayer. "Time to get this show on the road." He shoved his hands into his coat pocket and crossed the street.  
*****

Reese stared at the bottle of Scotch and wondered if there was an easier way to pour himself inside. It wasn't that he didn't mind getting drunk off his ass, but it was taking too damn long. Maybe if he could drink it from the inside out, then he could get Joss and his friends' betrayal out of his mind.

"Oh, who are you kidding?" he asked out loud. "You know you've forgiven her." He poured the amber liquid into the glass. "She could set you on fire and you'd run to get another log."

He threw the drink back and blanched.

"Yeah. I would." He stared at his phone lying on the coffee table. He picked it up and tried to will it to ring.

But his heart still hurt. Maybe if he called her or went over to her place... He considered the options, but stopped. What if she wasn't alone. Maybe she already had him replaced. It would be his luck. Still... His thumb hovered over her name. Suddenly the phone rang.

"Joss?"

"Not even close, Mr. Reese," Finch greeted in his even toned way.

"It's late."

"Not too late. And I hope you're not too drunk, because we got a number?"

Instantly sobered, Reese sat up on the couch. "The Machine is working?"

"I would say it is," Finch confirmed. "But the number it sent is not..." his voice trailed off. "It's not what I would have expected on Valentine's Day."

Reese stood up and hurried over to the closet where he kept his firearms. "What is it, Harold?"

"It seems a wife plans on murdering her husband at a hotel tonight."

Reese paused. "The wife?" It wasn't unheard of, just unpredictable on the sweetest day of the year.

"Apparently she's been seeing another man and wants a divorce. Her husband has said no, so..."

"She's going to make sure he says yes," Reese finished. He locked and loaded his Glock, then stuck it in the back waistband of his slacks. Quickly, he pulled on his jacket, then his long overcoat.

"I'm afraid that's a yes."

"Have you contacted Fusco and Carter?"

"I tried, but they are out on another call," he apologized. "Liquor store robbery ending in gunfire in Washington Heights."

"Seems love is in the air," Reese quipped sardonically.

"I believe you're right. I'm sending you the address." A second later, Reese's phone beeped to confirm receipt.

"I got it. I'm on my way."

"Be careful, John."

"Thanks, Finch." Reese disconnected the call. Well, he thought to himself, at least someone was going to get a good Valentine's Day. He hurried out the door.  
****

Leaning back in his chair, Finch folded his hands behind his head. On his face was a wide kool-aid smile.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Mr. Reese."


	28. Chapter 28

**Cupid**

From the front passenger seat of the sedan, Joss glanced at the passing scenery as she and Lionel sped to the possible murder for hire. She tried to stay focused on their mission, but inside she was seething at the news she was just told.

"I can't believe you did that," she said out of the blue, "and behind my back."

"He had the right to know," Lionel defended his actions in his defiantly cool and calm way. But inside he was shaking. His partner was armed and a better shot than most of the guys on the force. He swallowed hard and said a prayer.

"No, he didn't."

Lionel raised his eyebrow. "No?"

"Okay...after I told him," Joss amended.

"_You_ were going to tell him?"

"Yes."

"When?"

Joss sighed heavily. "What is it about you and twenty questions?"

"I have an inquiring mind, okay? _What_ were you going to tell him?"

"Does it matter? You already told him for me," Joss seethed and tried to keep her emotions in check. A part of her wanted to throttle Lionel, but her heart ached that her partner had beat her to the punch. It wasn't so much that Lionel told John about the deception; it was that he didn't tell her before doing it, that hurt the most.

"And that is why you were going to sit alone at home on Valentine's Day with a pizza and some sappy chick flick," Lionel pointed out matter of factly.

Joss' eyes widened. "How did you know?"

"Been there. Done that. Got the t-shirt," Lionel replied wryly. _A whole drawer of them, _he finished silently.

"Is that why you did it? Went through all of this trouble to bring me and John together?" Joss wondered. Her voice softened as the realization of her partner's sacrifice finally sunk in. Could it be that he really did have a romantic heart?

Lionel grasped the steering wheel and shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat. "What's with the twenty questions?" he grumbled and tried to pay attention to the road.

"I have an inquiring mind."

"Inquire somewhere else. But if you have to know, the answer is: Yes. Happy?"

"Thank you, Lionel."

"A lot of good it did me," he groused. "Wonderboy is busy doing what ever it is that he does, and you and I are responding to a domestic call on Valentine's Day."

"So, John isn't going to be there to stop it?" Joss wondered in surprise.

"Nah. Seems that the 'love' is all over the city tonight," Lionel said sarcastically. "A wife wanting a divorce has decided that her husband is going to comply to her wishes."

Joss blinked. "Damn! Maybe we should get his bad girl and our bad guy together so they can play house," she offered. "Sounds like a match made in heaven."

"Or hell." Lionel guided the sedan next to the curb and turned off the engine.

"He's in there?" she asked with a nod toward the tall hotel building. People walked in and out of the hotel's front door, oblivious to the crime about to go down in their midst.

"That's what Glasses said," Lionel opened the door and stepped out into the street. He took a deep breath of the cold, frigid air and hoped that it would calm his nerves. "Our suspect is planning on taking out his wife tonight. Right here."

"He's planning on killing his wife in a hotel?" Joss asked dumbfounded by the news. "Isn't that a bit crass?" She closed the car door and checked for her service weapon.

"I know. Puts a whole new spin on 'til death do we part'," Lionel quipped and walked over to stand next to his partner.

"So, what is the plan?"

"We have to catch him in the act. Then take him down."

Joss shook her head. "I can't believe anyone could do this."

"Well, since becoming a homicide detective, I can believe anything," Lionel said with a shrug. He nodded toward the covered entrance. "Let's use the front door and act like nothing's wrong. No need to alert our guy that we're here."

"Sounds like a good idea," Joss agreed.

Side by side the pair walked into the lobby. There were more than a few people congregating in the common area, but their attention was on their moment in their own little world. Walking past the front desk, the concierge nodded and raised his hand to Lionel.

"Hello, Detective. Good to see you again."

"Hey, Bradley," Lionel returned with a small wave.

"You know him?" Joss asked in surprise at the familiarity between the two men.

Lionel felt his face flush deep pink. He slipped two fingers in the collar of his dress shirt. "We go back," was all he offered as an answer. _Waaay back, _he added silently. But he wasn't going to let his illicit affairs during his separation – and ultimate divorce - taint the moment. He had more important things to do.

Pressing the button to the elevator, Lionel tapped his foot impatiently. It was an action not lost on Joss.

"What's the hurry?" she inquired.

"What?"

"Tapping your foot. You seem to be...oh, I don't know. Bored? Impatient."

"I have a hot date."

Joss looked surprised by the revelation from her partner. "You? A hot date?"

Lionel appeared offended. "Hey, I may need to lay off the donuts, but I'll have you know that women tend to like men who have a little meat on their bones," he shot back. "Some women don't care that guys don't have Superman physiques and can't do push ups on a moment's notice." The thinly veiled reference to John Reese was not lost on Joss.

"Sorry, Lionel. I think you're a good looking guy," she amended contritely.

Lionel puffed out his chest at the same moment the bell dinged to announce the arrival of the lift.

"Yeah, I am."

"Arrogant." Joss shook her head and stepped inside.

"Uh, well, you know. What can I say?" He pressed the button and waited for the doors to close. Silence fell heavily between him and Joss.

"What should we do?" Joss' voice was low despite her and Lionel being the only two people in the box.

"What do you mean?"

"Our plan of attack? If the husband hired someone to kill his wife, how will we know it's him and when he'll strike?" she explained.

"We'll know," Lionel muttered under his breath.

The ding of the elevator signaled their arrival. As the doors opened, the detectives stepped out. The hallway was eerily empty and deathly quiet. Not one person passed them nor was there any sounds from the rooms.

Joss looked around at the expensive paintings hanging on the wall. "At least the husband has good taste in his surroundings. What room are they in?"

"1225."

Weapons drawn, Joss and Lionel stealthily they crept down the hallway, their footsteps were cushioned by the thick carpet. Each eyed the numbers on the door they passed.

"1219," Lionel whispered. "1221...1223..." He stopped outside the white door adorned in brass. "1225. Ah. Here we are." The sound of a song playing from inside the room drifted to the pair crouched outside.

"Now what?" Joss whispered back. She was poised and ready to go, but a little nagging voice in the back of her brain wanted more information before jumping in. Something wasn't making sense, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was.

"We go inside and get him."

Joss jerked her head sharply at the suggestion. "Are you kidding? We just bust inside and get him? What kind of plan is that?"

"A good one."

"How do we know he isn't armed?" she countered. "Maybe we should call for back up," she suggested.

"We do have back up," Lionel replied. Joss raised her eyebrow in mock surprise. "We have each other."

"Comforting."

"Tell you what," Lionel said. "How about you guard the door and I'll go down and block the exit. You know, just in case he's gonna try to make a get away."

"No. Wait! What?!"

"You got the door, Joss. Bust in and cap the bad guy. If he gets away, I'll be waiting to stop him."

"You've got to be kidding! How about _you_ bust in and stop him?" she suggested hotly.

Lionel made a face. "What do you think I am? Crazy? You're a better shot than me, Carter, so you go in and disable him. If he gets away, radio me his description and I'll pop a cap in his ass. Okay?" He turned around.

"No. No, it's not 'okay'. Fusco..." Joss' words faded off as she watched her partner hot foot it in the other direction. "Damn it." Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. "Okay, Joss," she encouraged, "you can do this." She slowly turned the handle then stopped when she heard voices from inside.

"What are you doing? Get out!" a woman's voice commanded. The sound of breaking glass was followed by a loud scream. "Help! Help!"

Joss tried the handle and found it locked. More glass shattered as what sounded like a body hit the wall. Hard.

"Help! Someone help me!"

Stepping back, Joss looked around quickly for assistance before raising her foot to a 45 degree angle. With everything she had, she hit the edge of the door with all of her weight. The wood splintered before giving way to grant her access.

Weapon drawn, Joss rushed into the room, and stopped cold in her tracks. Candles littered the room to give it a weird yet romantic ambiance, and roses were strewn across the plush carpet. Their subtle scent tickled her nostrils. In the middle of the room stood an elegantly set table. And nearby, bottle of champagne chilled in its very own bucket.

"What the hell...?" she muttered in disbelief as she tried to process what her eyes were seeing. Walking over to the table, she noticed that it was set for two. "Who in the world did this?" she asked rhetorically. "This is a false alarm."

Suddenly, and without warning, the door to the right of her burst open. Her military training kicked in and Joss spun around, her weapon leveled at the tall intruder who fell inside inside to land on the floor at her feet.

"FREEZE!" she order in her best Warrant Officer tone, her finger hovered on the trigger. Two seconds passed. Then she blinked. Was the intruder wearing a suit?

"Hello, Joss," Reese greeted breathlessly as he looked up from his place on the floor. "Funny meeting you here."


	29. Chapter 29

_Well, I didn't think I'd ever finish this story, but I guess with the completion of "I'd Come For You", my brain – and the characters – wanted to tie up some loose ends before tackling the next story on way to #200. Of course, CaReese gets their Valentine's Day, but I did leave the door open for the possibility of Lionel getting a partner in the game of love. Who and how? You'll have to wait. Until then, enjoy this long waited for conclusion of our favourite star-crossed lovers. And thank you for your unwavering support to help see this through._

* * *

**Cupid**

"Hello, Joss," Reese greeted breathlessly as he looked up from his place on the floor. "Funny meeting you here."

Joss lowered her weapon and holstered it. "Yeah, funny. What are you doing here, John?"

Reese rolled over on to all fours, then pushed himself to his feet. "I could ask you the same thing."

"You first."

Reese brushed his hand over his long overcoat. "Got word that a wife was getting ready to secure the divorce that her husband was denying her."

"A husband was going to kill his wife in this room on Valentine's Day," she thought out loud.

"And here we are in a hotel room with soft music and a table set for two," he pointed out.

Joss cocked her head in thought as the pieces began to fall into place. "Fusco! He set us up! That lying, conniving..." Joss shook her head in disbelief. "I wish I could put him on traffic duty."

"Finch is the one who sent me here, so I don't think there is much I can do to get back at him." Reese lifted the black and silver bottle of champagne from the bucket. "Dom Perignon White Gold," he read the label aloud. "Good choice, Harold." He tore off the wrapper and pulled out the cork. The bubbly fizz erupted from the bottle, and Reese hurriedly grabbed one of the fluted glasses to catch the liquid.

"Here. Drink." He thrust the glass toward Joss. As she took it, he grabbed the other flute and filled it.

Joss took a swallow and let the bubbles roll over her tongue. "This is exquisite," she complimented and took another sip.

"It should be, since it cost fifteen grand a bottle," Reese quipped and raised the glass to his lips. His eyes danced with amusement at her reaction.

Joss nearly choked on the revelation. "Fifteen thousand DOLLARS?!" she gasped.

He gave an indifferent shrug. "Give or take a thousand." He finished the drink and poured himself another.

"Oh!" Joss set the glass on the table and stepped back. "That still doesn't explain them lying to us."

Reese looked at Joss over the rim of his glass. "Are you saying that you don't want to be here? With me?"

Joss shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another. "Do _you_ want to be with _me_?"

"You did lie to me, Joss."

"I didn't mean to."

Reese finished the drink and placed the glass on the table next to Joss'. In the background the song finished and another began. It's haunting tale of lovers wandering alone and wanting another chance filled the room.

"It wasn't intentional. Once I found out it was you, I wanted to stop. But then I realized I could finally find out who you really are," she explained passionately.

"And...?" he prompted her to continue.

"I liked what I found out. You're a great guy. Misunderstood...maybe even a little hard on yourself. But overall, any woman would be lucky to have you," she said.

"I see," Reese said simply.

"I know that Fusco and Finch did their best to try to get us together," she said, finally breaking her silence. "And I know that you are angry with what I did. I understand. You were fooled again, and your night was interrupted." Her smile was tight and forced, and she blinked back the tears of self-pity. "I will...um...let you have the rest of the night to yourself."

Turning on her heel, she blindly make her way toward the open doorway. Maybe, if she was lucky, she might be able to make it home in time to order that pizza and watch the sappy movie she'd recorded. She stopped when Reese's hand took her wrist.

"Joss...don't go."

She turned to look at Reese. "What?" she whispered.

"Stay." His blue eyes bore, unblinking, into her brown ones. "Please."

"John..." she protested, but a thrill of electricity ran up her arm.

"I thought I wanted Maggie with her understanding and compassion, but then I found myself wanting you and your tenacity and soft vulnerability. I wondered how I was going to choose, then I found out the women I want are one and the same – with all the things I love and want wrapped up in one beautiful package."

"You-you _love_ me?" Joss asked as her brain tried to make sense of the statement.

Reese brushed back a lock of Joss' hair with one hand as his other hand caressed the soft skin of her cheek. "You sound surprised, Joss," he replied but there was no teasing in his tone.

"I...it's not...you mean it?" she stumbled to explain what she wanted to say.

Reese took Joss' hand and placed it on his heart. "Can you feel it? You're the reason my heart beats. Every one of those beats has your name on it," he said and took a step forward.

Joss closed her eyes and bowed her head. "John..."

Reese crooked his finger and placed it under her chin to lift her eyes to meet his. "Look at me, Joss. I love you. I have since day one. Do you remember that morning when the transit cop brought me in? You tried to help me, but all I could think about was your perfume and your big brown eyes. I wanted to make love to you right there," he confessed and took another step. Their bodies were so close, yet they didn't touch.

Joss was startled by the revelation. "You...you wanted to make love to me?"

"I never stopped. That wanting has haunted me day and night. Do you know how difficult it's been to keep my hands to myself?"

"No."

"At first I was trying to find a reason to continue after you kicked me out of your life. But the more I talked to Maggie, the more I found myself wanting to be with you. That hollow in my heart and soul was something only you could fill."

"John..." His name came out as a breathless sigh.

"I made the date with Maggie, but all I wanted was you. I figured if I couldn't have you, I would have Maggie. But I realized I didn't want her. I was going to break it off when Fusco revealed the truth. Although you already made the slip."

"I-I did?" She couldn't recall what she could have said that would have blown her cover, but then again, she was having difficulty recalling much of anything at the moment.

"You called me 'John' during our last conversation. I didn't catch it at first, but when I did, I reacted horribly." He took one more step so they stood so close he could feel the heat from her body. "I swore I never wanted to see you again. But I realized that I am in love with you. You could set me on fire, Joss, and I would run out and get another log."

"What are you saying?"

Groaning low in his throat, Reese dipped his head and kissed her. His lips moved softly over hers as he tasted her sweetness. He felt his body come alive as she slowly responded back. His tongue outlined the seam of her lips to request entry. With a moan, she let him in.

Fisting his hand in her hair, he deepened the kiss. Hands stroking and caressing flesh, their tongues mated wildly in a dance only lovers could understand. Coming up for air, they tried to get their bearings.

"Oh, my god," Joss panted and tried to catch her breath.

"Is that all you can say, Joss?" Reese dipped his head to nibble on her ear. The sweet scent of jasmine filled his nostrils.

Joss closed her eyes and leaned toward him. "Wow! Where did you learn to kiss like that?"

"Secret CIA technique," he murmured, trailing kisses down the side of her neck. His hands pushed the heavy winter coat over Joss' shoulders. It landed on the floor with a light thud. "I could tell you, but..."

"You'd have to kill me?" Joss finished.

"You're the one killing me, Joss." Reese kissed his way to the V opening of her blouse. With nimble fingers he slipped the buttons out and let the material part. "Ohhh..." he breathed as he drank in her beauty. "You're beautiful. So beautiful."

"I don't think..."

"Don't think, Joss. Just feel." He unfastened the front clasp on her bra to let the twin mounds fall into his hands. "Feel the way I'm making love to you." He brushed his cheek against one of her nipples until it hardened.

"John..." Joss cried out when he took the taut peak in his mouth and loved it. She arched forward to give him more. Her hands curled in his hair. Time stood still as he made love to her. There was nothing else in the world but the feel of his lips on her skin and the sensation of his fingers stroking her.

Reese moved his mouth to love her other breast, while his hand unfastened the button on her slacks. Blindly he pulled the zipper down to let the material pool at her feet. Joss shivered as the cool air hit her skin.

"Shhh," Reese comforted. "I'll warm you up." He took his sweet time kissing his way down her taut belly. He dipped his tongue in her belly button and took pleasure as her gasp of surprise. Kneeling down, he finished the journey at the edge of her black lace panties. He looked up at her. Desire smoldered in his eyes.

"Is this what you wear to all domestic calls?" he teased and ran his finger just under the edge of the elastic.

"Yes. No. I was planning on having a quiet night alone with a pizza and movie," she explained. "I had no idea I was going to be called in."

"What kind of a movie?" Reese wondered. His finger dipped down to tease the V of curls.

"What kind of-?" Joss asked, but her brain was short-circuiting. "A sappy romance."

"Boy meets girl and they fall in love and make love, but break up, only to come back together?" He pulled the panties down to let them land on the slacks.

"Something like." She couldn't remember the plot, but she didn't care. All she cared about was what he was doing to her. "It was a silly Valentine's Day movie."

Reese pressed a kiss to the curls and breathed in her delicate scent. "I'll make it up to you, Joss." He stood up. "Every kiss you missed. Every tear you cried over me. Every sleepless night." He pushed her bra and blouse off, then he lifted her in his arms. "If it takes me the rest of my life, I'm going to make it up to you."

Joss cupped Reese's cheek. "Sounds like a plan."

Reese laid her on the king-sized bed. He quickly stripped his clothing to let it fall haphazardly on the floor before joining the love of his life on the mattress. Hovering over her, he tried to find the right words.

Joss took his face in her hands. Her eyes met his. What she saw nearly took her breath away. "What is it?"

"Remember when you said any woman would be lucky to have me?"

"Hmmm hmmm."

"I think think were you're wrong, Joss; I'm the lucky one." His heart burst with more love than he thought possible. "I have you." Nudging her knees apart, he settled between her thighs.

"You know, I thought this was going to be the worst Valentine's Day ever," Joss said, not trying to hide the tears that ran from her eyes. "But it's turned out to be the best one of my life. Happy Valentine's Day, John."

Reese lovingly stroked her cheek. If he lived to be a hundred, he would never take for granted that she belonged to him.

"Only the first of many for the rest of your life, Joss. I promise." Then he kissed her and made them one.  
******

Settled in at a corner table of a local cafe, Lionel lifted his mug of hot chocolate in victory.

"Well, that was a piece of cake," he stated proudly and puffed out his chest.

Finch raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "Considering how you almost got us both shot, I'm not sure I can agree with your assessment, Detective."

"Oh, come on, Glasses. So we got off to a rough start. It wasn't that bad," he argued. At Finch's glare, he shifted in his chair. "Okay...maybe it got a little bad," he amended. "But you have to admit that it worked out in the end. At least no one got shot."

"Small consolation," Finch grudgingly gave credit. "What would you have done if they hadn't gotten together?" he threw back.

"Pfft! Like that would happen. They were meant to be together," Lionel reasoned matter of factly. He took one of the bear claws off the plate and took a bite. "You know, I think I might have a career as a 'Cupid'. Maybe I should work on getting you someone, Finch. There is a nice woman in 'Evidence Lock-Up' that I think would be _great_ for you."

Finch cleared his throat, and Bear growled low.

"Or maybe not," Lionel backtracked quickly. He took another bite.

"Stick with the detective work, Detective," Finch replied evenly.

"Okay." Lionel raised his shoulder, then dropped it. "You should really try one of these." He wiped his fingers on the serviette before grabbing another pastry.

But little did he know that Finch's brain was spinning with possibilities after receiving the information The Machine had sent.

Bringing the oversized mug to his lips, the bespectacled man assessed the portly detective with whom he had become an unwitting partner. It was a long shot that _his_ plan would work, but he at least had a year to put it into play.

To hide the sly smile that threatened to give it all away, he took a sip of the frothy, delicious drink.

Besides, he found he_ liked_ playing Cupid.

A lot.

The End.


End file.
